The Little Mermaid IV: The Darkest Tide
by DarkDragonFires12
Summary: It's been seven peaceful years since Morgana was frozen in the South Pole. But the peace is soon to end. An evil more powerful than any before is stirring; a mysterious traveler comes from the east; and strange happenings haunt the land and sea. Can Melody and this strange traveler save the land and the sea? Rated T for violence and brief coarse language.
1. Chapter 1: Full Moon

**The Little Mermaid IV: The Darkest Tide**

Chapter 1: Full Moon

It happened again.

Melody was falling. Icy wind roared in her ears like a thunderstorm. Her nightgown flapped like a flag in the gale of a hurricane. Her hair snapped against her skin like a thousand tiny stinging whips. Her eyes watered and burned from the force of the wind, but she could not close them. Tears streaked from her face, some from the force of the wind and many from fear. The world was a discordant blur of color as she tumbled over and over. Gray, blue, black, blue, red, gray, teal, black, gray, black, red, blue-the chaotic kaleidoscope never stopped as she fell. Air was being rammed into her lungs one moment and forcefully sucked out the next. Her throat was raw from screaming, but no sound reached her ears except the deafening bellow of her fall. She looked to her feet but instead saw a ruby red tail. She was a mermaid!

A sudden gust of wind threw Melody into a savage barrel roll. Her arms flailed wildly, part due to the force of her spin and part in the blind hope of grasping salvation. Another blast of wind struck from above, sending her into a straight nosedive towards the earth. Her eyes roamed madly in a desperate attempt to make sense of her surroundings. The dark green sea beneath her roiled and churned savagely. White-capped waves tall enough to swallow a battleship rolled across the surface in massive swells. Giant icebergs rose and fell with the storming breath of the ocean, sending jets of spray into the air when a wave collided with their frozen walls. Spires of ice rose from the tempestuous sea, each one ending in lethally sharp tips. The stormy frozen seas stretched out to the horizon. The sky was filled with dark clouds threatening rain, and bolts of lightning flashing every few seconds. Waterspouts danced between the ocean and the clouds. It was as though the sea were ripping itself apart.

Absolute fear gripped Melody. She knew that the water would greet her with the same softness with which a castle wall greets a cannonball, mermaid or not. It would be no different than if she had landed on a slab of stone. New panic rose up as she thought of her mangled body sinking into the dark depths of the sea. She thought of all the things she still wanted to do-places to go, people to meet, memories to make, life to be lived. She thought of her friends and family. There was so much she wanted to tell them. So much that she would never get to say.

'_I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!' _That single thought rang in her head even louder than the wind. Her screams became hoarse and choked as her voice failed. She was afraid of pain, of the unknown that awaited her in death. She did not want to die. Not here, alone, plummeting from the heavens to a watery grave or speared on ice.

"Melody!"

The voice cut through the tempest of wind like a knife. It echoed within itself, as though two voices were speaking in unison. Melody looked about wildly for the source of the voice, clinging onto the slimmest of hopes that it would be her rescue.

"Melody!" the voice called again. It seemed to come from all directions at once.

"Help!" she screamed, putting all of her hope and desperation into that one call. The wind rushed into her open mouth as though to stifle her. The cry was barely a whisper in her own ears, muted by her fall. Then a new sound reached her ears-a dull whooshing, like the beating of wings behind her. Hope sprang anew in her heart. Had an angel come to her rescue? Or perhaps even a giant albatross, a rare traveler of the seas?

Melody looked up behind her. Her hope turned to terror as her screaming renewed with vigor.

It was not an angel, but a demon that pursued her. Its body was that of a lean and muscular human. Smooth black plates covered it like an interlocking armor of ink. Spikes ran down its spine to a skeletal tail, and long spines jutted from behind pointed ears. Its hair was a fiery mixture of reds, oranges, and yellows that danced like a wildfire in the wind. It seemed to radiate with an unnatural glow. A pair of large black bat-like wings protruded from its back, folded backwards as it dove after her in pursuit. Half of its face, from the nose down to its neck, was obscured by a black face-guard. Its mouth was a ferocious set of interlocking dagger-like black teeth. A pair of red eyes peeked out above its demonic face-guard. A pair of circular black eyes sat above its red eyes like a pair of empty eye sockets. Its arms were stretched towards her, claw-tipped hands grasping for her fins. It radiated heat, warming the tips of her fins like when she got closer than comfortable to the fireplace in the colder winter months. Strange glowing orange patterns covered it, like roots of fire spread over its skin- if you could call it that.

"Get away!" Melody yelled. She felt herself falling faster now, as though her fear was propelling her away from the creature. She kicked out with her tail at the creature's hand and knocked it aside. The hand was as smooth and hard as metal. The creature fell back for a moment, as though offended by her response. Then it tucked its wings into its body for a full dive. It gained speed, gradually closing the distance between them. Its unblinking eyes followed her with the same intensity as a falcon diving after its prey. Predatory eyes.

The creature let loose a soul-jarring roar. It reverberated in her very bones, feeding her most basic fears. Its mouth was a flaming orange furnace, as though Hell itself burned within. Its teeth stood out like black swords against the orange glow of its maw. It swiped at her tail but missed, the claws catching Melody in the tip of her tail. There was a moment of sharp pain, and then she went into a tumble. She flailed wildly, trying to regain her balance.

"Stop!" the creature shouted. Melody ignored it, clawing madly at the air to regain her balance. She flipped head over fins like a coin tossed into the air. Suddenly a strong grip closed around her wrist. The creature had caught her. Fresh panic welled up inside of her chest, adrenaline flooding her body with the desire to flee.

"Let go let go let go let go!" she screamed repeatedly as she lashed out with her tail and free hand. The creature brought its arm up in an attempt to block her panicked blows. She struck air or the creature's arm with each blow, its grip remaining tight as a vice. She could feel the claws threatening to pierce her as they pressed against her skin. She punched once more. This time her hand made contact with where the creature's nose would be under its face-guard. Melody heard a pained howl from the creature. Its grip on her wrist released. She looked back to see the creature clutching its face, droplets of blood falling backwards into the wind. Its red eyes glared at her through black fingers like a tiger eying its prey from behind its cage.

"No!" The creature reached out with its right hand, the other trying to staunch the blood running from its nose. The blood splattered against its wings and body. As the blood hit the creature's skin the black plating began to crack and crumble. Pieces flaked off into the sky like paint chips caught in the wind. Hairline cracks spread through the plates as more and more of the black coating came off. Human skin appeared in the cracks and holes. Its hair began to lose its glow, the colors becoming darker. The red of its eyes began to turn brighter. Its hand obscured its face as the last of the face-guard fell off. It started to fall behind. The distance between them grew larger by the second. Its eyes widened in anger, furious at the thought of losing its prey. It began to lose stability, its dive becoming jerky and uncoordinated. Suddenly its wings spread wide open, revealing smoldering holes like a paper being burned from the middle outward. The wind caught its wings like a kite, pushing the creature back.

"NO!" it roared as it shrunk into the distance. Within seconds it was nothing more than a speck against the dark gray of the clouds. Then it was gone. A small wave of relief swept over her. That is, until she looked down again.

The ocean was much closer now. Panic returned to Melody with a vengeance. She had been so occupied with fighting off the demon that she forgot about the icy death waiting below her. The icebergs looked like mountains, the rolling waves now tsunamis smashing against the icy slopes at their base. The jagged ice spires looked sharper than before at this distance. Seconds later she passed by the tips of the spires. The ice passed by her in a blur of blues and whites. Beneath her the water roiled as though it were alive. She thought she saw something moving beneath the waves. No, she definitely saw something moving beneath the waves. She strained her eyes, trying to make out the forms moving under the water.

They were tentacles. Monstrous ones. The ocean was a writhing mass of giant black cephalopod tentacles, slipping over each other like a pit of eels. As though sensing her awareness of their presence the tentacles began to climb up the ice spires like snakes up a tree, dark purple suckers clinging to the ice. Others sprouted from the ocean below, racing up towards her in a frenzied dance, dogs eager for their next meal.

Melody screamed like she had never screamed before. She thought she would go deaf from how loud she screamed. Her blood ran colder than the ice surrounding her.

Moments later she slammed into the tentacles. It was like falling into a pit of bloated snakes. The tentacles instantly wrapped themselves around her. She felt the suckers pulling at her skin and scales. They tore at her clothes and hair, squeezing her limbs until she though they would break. Her screams turned into pleading sobs, despair squeezing her like a python wrapped around a rat as it waits for that final breath of hope to leave its prey's body.

"Someone! Anyone! Help me! Please! Help!"

Then she heard it. The laughter. A cold, vile laugh buried in the depths of memory. A laugh that had seen her transform into a mermaid for the first time. A laugh she had heard when she was betrayed her mother. A laugh she heard as the world nearly plunged into icy darkness. A laugh that should be frozen beneath the ice for all eternity. Melody's blood turned to ice.

"Hello...sweetheart!"

Her screaming was cut short as a tentacle wrapped around her neck and began to squeeze.

* * *

_WHUMP!_

Melody was jolted from her nightmare as she rolled off her bed onto the floor. Her eyes snapped open, adrenaline surging through her body like liquid lightning. The pressure was still around her neck, impeding her panicked breathing. Her hands scrabbled at her neck for the choking assailant. Instead of a slimy tentacle she felt the smooth texture of linen sheets. Her fingers quickly found where the sheet had begun encircling her neck and loosened the offending fabric. She took deep panicked breaths, her body working to absorb as much oxygen as possible.

The world slowly came back to Melody. She felt the carpet underneath her dampen with the sweat from her body. The floral seashell pattern of her walls resolved out of the darkness of the night as her eyes began to adjust. She heard the ocean waves lapping at the beach in the distance, the calls of seagulls mixed in with the rhythmic noise. A breeze from her open balcony window gently rustled her bed canopy, carrying the familiar salty scent of the sea. The scent wrapped itself around Melody like a comforting blanket. Pale moonlight shone in through her windows, casting her room in a ghostly light.

The sounds of frantic footsteps raced towards her room, growing louder with each step. Even half-asleep Melody could recognize the quick light steps of her mother and the heavy long strides of her father.

Moments later her door flew open, the pale yellow light of a candelabra piercing the darkness of the wee hours of the morning. Melody could not keep herself from squinting as her eyes adjusted to the light.

King Eric was dressed in little more than a pair of tattered cloth pants, a remnant from his days on the sea. His body was not as muscular as in his younger days, but frequent expeditions into the ocean had helped to maintain his form. His face bore a thin layer of stubble, making him look older than his age. The faintest of wrinkles framed his eyes, the result of drowsiness more than time's march forward. His black hair was disheveled and tangled, as though he had gone to sleep straight from a bath. In his left hand was the candelabrum, the three candles supporting a trio of luminous orange teardrops. In his right hand was his sword, the steel blade reflecting the candlelight like a mirror.

A blur of pink and red rushed past Eric to Melody's side. Before she could react Melody was in her mother's arms. The queen squeezed her so tight it was hard to breathe. "Mom, I can't breathe," Melody wheezed. The pressure quickly let up as her mother released her.

Queen Ariel had changed little with time. Her hair was still a vibrant red, now tied back in a braid for the night hours. Her figure was petite and lithe. You could almost call it streamlined. She wore a simple pink sleeping gown, the same one she had worn during her first stay on the surface world. Her deep blue eyes were tinged with worry and sleep, a few rebellious strands of red hair hanging down across her face. Lines of worry outlined her eyes.

"Are you okay?" asked Ariel as she stroked her daughter's face. "We heard you talking and then you began to scream."

"I...I'm okay," whispered Melody as she got to her feet. A sudden wave of dizziness swept over her, cutting her ascent short. She sunk onto the bed, the frame creaking slightly as it accepted her weight. The world continued to spin for several long moments, and then returned to its normally stable state.

Ariel sat next to her daughter, clearly worried by her sudden loss of balance. She held Melody's shoulders as though to keep her from falling over. "Melody?"

Melody shook her head. "Just a dizzy spell. I'm alright."

Eric put down the candelabra and sword on Melody's vanity table before joining his wife and daughter on the edge of the bed. "Did you have a bad dream?" Melody nodded. "Was it the nightmare again?"

Melody tried to recall her dream, but it was fragmented and jumbled, like a book with pages missing and in the wrong order. "I don't remember. I was falling out of the sky and then..." It suddenly came back to her-the rolling sea, the dark sky, the creature, and the ice. Melody felt the hair on her neck stand up. The fear and anxiety returned with a vengeance, as though the dream would immediately become reality now that she remembered it. The creature's glowing eyes and mouth filled her mind, and a fresh wave of terror consumed her. She instinctively covered her head, as though to keep the memories from finding a way back into her mind.

A gust of wind caught the curtains around the window and rustled them, producing a noise like wings flapping. A moment later the same wind caught the shutters to Melody's window and slammed them closed with a loud bang. Instinct took over Melody's body as she dashed to her father's sword. Before she could understand her actions the sword was in her hands and pointed at the window, the tip shaking violently from fear. She expected to see the creature perched on her balcony, wings spread and orange eyes burning into her. The balcony was empty, but paranoia had her in its grip, screaming for her to watch one second more in case it suddenly dropped from the sky.

Eric carefully got up and walked to his daughter. "Melody..." She did not respond, her mind focusing only on the balcony. Her eyes were wide as the sails on a ship, and her face was an unhealthy looking white color. The tip of the sword wavered in midair, betraying her shaking body. Eric gently placed his hands on Melody's. "Give me the sword, Melody. It's all right. You're safe now."

The touch of her father's hand was enough to pull Melody out of her terrified daze. The sword suddenly felt heavy in her hands. She quickly let go of it, as though holding it any longer would have some permanent effect on her.

"Your majesty, are you hurt?" came Grimsby's voice from out of sight. Moments later the grey-haired advisor appeared in Melody's doorway, carrying his own candelabrum.

"We're alright, Grimsby," said Ariel as she draped a blanket around Melody's shoulders. She could feel her daughter shaking. Her breathing was becoming faster as she thought about the nightmare more.

"Shall I fetch some tea for the princess, sire?" asked Grimsby.

Eric turned to Melody. She nodded slowly. "Please," asked Eric. Grimsby bowed and turned to leave. "Wait." The old man stopped, turning his attention back to Eric. "Send for the physician as well, and have him bring a sleeping tonic."

"No!" Melody shouted, causing all of them to jump. "I don't want to sleep! No more tonics! Please! I don't care if I never sleep again, but I won't go through that again!" Melody broke down into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. She felt like a child afraid of monsters under her bed, completely helpless should they decide to attack. Ariel held her tightly, tears threatening to spill from her own eyes at her inability to protect her only child. Eric took both of them in his arms, his heart wrenched by the fear his daughter was feeling.

* * *

Out in the ocean a pair of golden eyes watched, the light from them lost amidst the reflection of countless stars on the water's surface. The eyes watched as Grimsby left to fetch the tea. The crying was muted at this distance, sounding more like a drawn out wail than sobbing. They observed the family until Grimsby returned with the tea, and then sank beneath the water without so much as a ripple.

In the darkest depths of the ocean a pair of glowing white eyes watched through the golden eyes as the scene unfold at the palace. The owner of the eyes was shrouded by the darkness of the night. It saw through the golden eyes as though it was there in person, not using an orb as the sea witches did. Their magic was so inefficient with its reliance on ingredients and potions. It preferred a more direct approach if possible.

Still, the witches had been good for something. The nightmare spell had proven to be highly efficient at terrorizing the princess. It felt a sinister joy at the suffering of the princess. Her night terrors had proven to be a reliable source entertainment and satisfaction for nearly a month now. It could not prevent a vicious smile from spreading across its face. How it wished it could see her suffering in person. But it was patient. It had been hiding in the dark for centuries. It could wait for another decade if necessary, but things were progressing smoothly. It would not be much longer. Its plans were moving forward with the slow unyielding gate of earthquake, building up its strength before unleashing destruction. Soon enough, it would have the satisfaction of seeing fear on the faces of Melody and her parents when it destroyed their home...

Then their kingdom...

Then Atlantica...

And then the entire world.

* * *

A thousand leagues to the east, over the snowy windswept peaks of the White Iron Mountains and the eerie woods of the Howling Forest, lay the barren waste of the Devil's Steppe. The desert was the definition of desolate. No trees, no shrubs, no cacti, no rocks-not even small pebbles. The remnant of an inland sea, the Devil's Steppe was uninhabited for good reason. Sand and dust stretched in monstrous dunes as far as the eye could see, forming a literal ocean of sand. Rain was nonexistent. Even clouds were rare. Sandstorms were as frequent as they were savage, capable of peeling skin in seconds. Compasses were useless in the desert, the result of some strange and ominous forces. The sun burned the landscape like an oven, raising temperatures well above normal human tolerances. A person would die within a day or two without water. The night was no less forgiving, when temperatures became cold enough to freeze water. No small number of people had ventured into the desert and were never heard from again. The trading caravans stuck close to the southern edge of the desert, never venturing into the heart of the wasteland.

On the desert's eastern border rose the Dragon's Teeth. A range of jagged rocky peaks, the mountains were as treacherous and barren as the desert. The slopes were devoid of life except for various lichens and mosses. The peaks rose thousands of feet into the sky like the teeth of some primordial monstrosity, lending the mountains their name. The rocks were sharp and loose, frequently breaking free and cascading down in deadly rockslides to the narrow valleys below. At the edge of the desert their near-vertical slopes gave way suddenly to the rolling sandy expanses. The temperature never rose above freezing, and permanent ice and snow encased large swathes of the slopes. Gusts of wind that rivaled hurricanes frequented the mountains, keeping the slopes bare and impassable. No shortage of lives had been lost in these mountains.

At the top of a peak bordering the Devil's Steppe stood a lone traveler. The full moon blazed overhead like a second sun, casting the desert in a ghostly pale light that blotted out the stars and cast the traveler's shadow as a long streak down the side of the mountain. A gray traveling cloak skimmed just above the rocky ground, kicking up small flurries of fine icy dust from the rocks. A hood was pulled low over its face, concealing all features in shadow. Simple leather boots covered with a fine frost gripped the slippery rocks. The nighttime wind pulled at the hood, as though the desert itself wished to know the identity of this solitary traveler. A gust blew back the cloak, revealing a ragged brown tunic and loose black cloth pants held at the waist by a faded black chord. The traveler's arms and hands were wrapped in dirty grey bandages, protecting it from the burning rays of the sun and the chill of the night. The moonlight glinted of the steel pommel and tsuba of an eastern style sword, the black handle worn from years of use. A pair of knife handles were visible at the small of its back. The hood was lifted enough to reveal a worn olive green shemagh covering the mouth and nose, and a pair of circular black goggles over the eyes. The shemagh bore long interlocking triangular designs, making it appear that the traveler's mouth was made of narrow pointed teeth. Small puffs of steam came from the shemagh, the warm breath of the traveler condensing in the frigid night air. A tattered frame pack was strapped to its back, carrying the bare essentials of travel. The traveler had not even brought a bedroll for the freezing nights.

The traveler looked out from its perch. The desert stretched to the horizon as a single unending plane of sand. Not a single distinguishing feature as far as the eye could see, as though a giant hand had come down and wiped the mountains from the land. The traveler had been warned against traveling through the desert alone, much less trying to cross through the heart of it. The desert could quickly become a deadly maze of shifting sand dunes. There was no telling what was waiting out there. Any ordinary person could quickly become lost and die, provided they were able to get through the Devil's Teeth alive.

Luckily, the traveler was not an ordinary person. It had been traveling for less than a week now and had survived all of the dangers of the mountains. In five days it had traveled what normally took the trading caravans two weeks. It had chosen to climb the mountain to get a better view of its surroundings before attempting to cross the desert. This was also the ideal position for its departure across the desert.

The traveler set down its travel pack. Reaching inside it pulled out a bundle of grey cloth the size of a grapefruit. The traveler unwound the bundle, pulling back layer after layer of worn cloth. The last fold was pulled back to reveal a glass vial the size of a large grape. A glowing purple liquid swirled gently in the vial. The vial was worth the cost of at least four caravans. The traveler had gotten it for free- a convenient bonus from its line of work. The traveler took the vial and held it up to the moonlight. The fluid seemed to glow even brighter. The traveler opened the top of the vial and held it to its lips.

"_Ostendo itiner_," the traveler said, its voice muffled by the shemagh. The liquid immediately glowed a brilliant white. The vial began to vibrate wildly, the frequency increasing with each moment. The traveler let go of the vial and took a careful step backwards. The vial hung in midair like a small star, glowing brighter by the second. There was a noise of glass cracking and falling to the stones. The miniature star suddenly swelled to the size of a watermelon and turned a bright red color. It hovered in the air for a long moment, and then shot out into the desert as though launched from a cannon. The star became a single red pinprick in the sky, standing out against the pale light of the moon like a drop of blood.

"Right on track," the traveler said. It picked up the pack, now positioning it over its chest. The traveler tied a strap around its waist, ensuring the pack would not come free. Satisfied that the pack was secure, the traveler checked the artificial star. It shone on the horizon with a steady red light. The traveler was betting everything on that red star for this journey. Success would mean salvation. The traveler did not want to entertain the idea of failure.

A gust of wind caught a patch of loose ice and rock grit on the mountain slope, sending up a plume of ice and grit taller than a house up the mountainside. The traveler pulled the cloak up to shield its face just in time to avoid the natural sandblaster. For a brief moment the traveler was completely obscured by the blinding flurry. The plume was so thick that not even a shadow was visible. The ice and grit hung in the air for a long moment before falling back to the earth. When the sand fell away the traveler was gone, vanished into the night.

* * *

**AN: For anyone who was following this story earlier I had a couple errors that slipped by me. Reloaded the document so it should be error free now.**

**Hoping to get chapter 2 out within the next few days. Any constructive feedback is appreciated, even if it's just to say you like the story.**


	2. Chapter 2: How Was Your Morning?

Chapter 2: How Was Your Morning?

The first rays of sunlight struck the white walls of the castle. Light shone through the window of Melody's room, warming the tops of her feet as she sat in her alcove. It had been another long night. After she had calmed down and drunk her tea, Ariel and Eric had left, encouraging her to go back to sleep. But fear of the nightmare was stronger than her parent's comfort. She spent the remainder of the night staring out at the ocean, trying to fight off sleep's incessant temptation. Even now she felt it gently pulling at her like an angler working a fish to the surface. Sleep would inevitably win, but she would not go quietly.

Melody thought back to when it had started. It was only a month ago but it felt like years. She could not remember a recent night where she had not woken up in terror. At first the nightmares were just about falling. She would plummet into the ocean and wake up. It was scary, but not a unique or especially terrifying nightmare. She had been able to go back to sleep from those nightmares. From there it had gotten worse. First the demon appeared. It would chase her but never catch her. Then came the ice. She would fall and become impaled on it. She had ripped six of her nightshirts in the process of waking up, expecting to see a giant spear of ice protruding from her chest. The tentacles and Morgana's voice were the newest addition to her torment.

She ran her fingers along the glass of the alcove windows. It was cold to the touch. Her mind flashed back to the feel of the icy wind as she fell. She snatched her hand back as though the glass was molten hot. Everything reminded her of the dream now. The fluttering of book pages in wind would remind her of the demon's wings. A glint of sunlight off polished metal would remind her of the lightning that flashed in the storm. A fog of despair settled over her. She wished that the dream would end more than anything else. But there was a part of her that believed it never would, and that part was growing with every sleepless night.

"Good mornin' princess!"

Melody looked behind her to the open balcony windows. A familiar white seagull was coming in to land. The gull attempted to alight on her balcony but miscalculated, tumbling off into a heap on the floor.

"Hi Scuttle," said Melody wearily and slightly irritated. She knew that it did not take long for Scuttle to become trying even for the most patient of people. And right now she was far from patient.

Scuttle picked himself up and smoothed out his feathers. "How's it goin, darling?" asked Scuttle as he waddled over to the cozy.

Melody sighed. Normally she liked the quirky seagull as much as her other friends, but he was grating on her already frayed nerves right now. "Not good, Scuttle. I had nightmares and didn't sleep again last night."

The gull hopped up next to Melody. "Nightmares? You mean the one where you're fallin outta the sky and the sea's a-stormin like a hooked shark?" he said, miming falling out of the sky in his own awkward way.

"Please stop," asked Melody. His talk was making her nervous, threatening to send her into a panic attack.

"And then that big black demony thing chases you, and-_grawk_!" Scuttle fell off the cozy to the floor in an unceremonious ball of feathers. "Whoa, what a tumble! At least there's no ice on the-."

"Stop!" Melody curled up into a ball, face screwed up in terror and hands covering her ears as she tried to block out his words. Her eyes threatened tears. She wanted to squeeze herself into the tightest ball possible until she disappeared, hoping that would get rid of her fear.

"Sorry, sweetheart," mumbled the seagull apologetically. He hopped back up with a few clumsy flaps.

Melody gave a groan of frustration. "I just..." she struggled to find the words. "I want to sleep so badly, but every time I sleep its nightmare after nightmare. One night of sleep where I don't wake up in terror is all I want. Is that too much to ask?"

Scuttle scratched his head. "I don't know princess. I got lotsa things at my place, but a good night's sleep? I ain't come by one of them yet." Melody was about to snap at the seagull, but she thought better of it. As annoying as he was to her right now, it was no excuse to be mean. He was still her friend. Melody sighed and rested her head against her knees. A slight headache was building, a result of insufficient sleep.

Scuttle paced back and forth on the padded window ledge for a moment, his mind calculating with what little intelligence he possessed. "I know! What you need is a good swim! Let that ocean water wash the bad dreams right outta you! A dip in the sea and I sleep like a baby."

"Scuttle, you can't swim."

"Oh, yeah." The seagull rubbed his beak thoughtfully, or at least as thoughtfully as a seagull could. "No wondah I sleep so well. I get real tired trying to get outta the water."

Melody gave a faint smile. On more than one occasion she had saved the gull from drowning, usually when he slipped off of something or messed up a landing. And a dip in the sea did sound nice. It had been nearly two weeks since she had seen her ocean friends. "Alright. Meet you outside the courtyard in forty. Can you get Tip and Dash?"

"Sure thing!" squawked the seagull. He bounded over to the balcony and spread his wings. "See ya in..." The seagull started counting on his feathers. "One...two...three...was it five or four that's after-" A sudden gust of wind caught the seagull and flung him off the railing. He gave a startled squawk, fell out of sight, and then popped back up, gliding out towards the beach.

Melody yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She started to stand when a dizzy spell hit her. The room spun violently, giving Melody a sense of what a yo-yo must feel like. She grabbed the edge of the widow seat until the spell passed. Her mind briefly flashed to the dream as she spun through the sky. She fought back the panic that welled up in her chest. For a moment it threatened to take over, but then it receded with the dizziness.

"I need tea," she mumbled to herself. She was about to walk out of the door when a glint from her dresser caught her eye.

"My locket." Melody walked over and picked up the golden seashell. Even in the shade of her room the shell had a distinctive glimmer to it. She held it up to the sunlight coming in through her window. The gold sparkled brilliantly, like the evening sunlight dancing on the ocean. A small engraving shaped like a whirlpool appeared in the gold as it reflected the early morning light.

Melody turned to her full-length mirror. Seven years ago she had been a child on the cusp of becoming a teenager. Now she had grown into a beautiful young woman on the cusp of becoming an adult. Her jet-black hair was nearly as long as her mother's now, but she still kept in tied back in a low ponytail. She was nearly as tall as her mother, too. Her father often joked that she had one more growth spurt in her somewhere. She saw her mother in her face, eyes, and nose, but her skin and ears was definitely her father's. Her body was that of a mermaid, fit and sleek from long and frequent swims in the ocean. She still wore a camisole into the sea, not fully comfortable with the traditional seashell bra that mermaids wore. Her chest and hips had grown as well, undeniable signs that she was no longer a child. She shuddered as she remembered puberty. That was one adventure she never wished to repeat!

She slipped the locket around her neck and left her room, looking forward to her first swim in a long time.

* * *

Under the ocean the city of Atlantica was already bustling with activity. Lights were turning on in windows throughout the city as the merpeople prepared for a new day. Fish of diverse colors and forms swam alongside the equally diverse merpeople in the streets. In the markets, merchants of all types prepared their stalls, eager to peddle their wares to interested customers. Some set out food, others supplies, and others put out signs listing services offered. Several swordfish and merman guards patrolled the market, keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble. At the edge of the city merfolk and a variety of other sea creatures tended to fields of kelp, clearing newly planted rows of seaweeds or harvesting the mature crop. Beyond the fields was the vast expanse of the wilds, uninhabited lands that the merfolk ventured into only if necessary.

From his balcony at the palace, King Triton surveyed the kingdom in its waking hours. The merking was still an imposing figure in his old age. Seven years had done little to diminish his physique or presence. The only signs of his age were a few small wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, although his long flowing beard did much to conceal the latter. His deep blue scales shone brightly, a clear sign of good health. In his right hand the trident sparkled softly, as though happy to be in the presence of such a well-loved and respected king.

In his left hand, however, was a less appealing item. It was a scroll bearing the familiar seal of the king army-a trident and sword crossed over each other in red seawax. The red wax was only used for matters requiring the king's immediate attention. It had arrived last night from a scouting party in the western seas. The party had been dispatched to investigate rumors of the seaclops roaming the ocean. Triton had been unable to sleep since first reading it.

Sebastian the crab sat on the balcony at the king's side. The crab had returned to being royal advisor shortly after Morgana was defeated. He had enjoyed returning to the peace and quiet of his former duties. Nowadays, though, he would also admit to missing his days as caretaker for Melody and Ariel. There were no more mermaids for him to look after, as all of Ariel's sisters had married and were raising families of their own. A part of him missed the thrill and excitement of his various adventures with the two princesses.

Right now the crab was not thinking about teenage mermaid princesses or undersea adventures. He was thinking about the report in the king's hand.

"Can we be certain this is accurate?" the king asked.

"I would bet my right claw on it, your majesty. De scouts take pride in de thoroughness of deir work."

Triton clenched the scroll tightly, the paper crinkling within his grip. He turned away from the balcony and swam back to his throne. Sebastian swam beside him, claws swinging like a paddle wheel to keep up.

"How does a seaclops just disappear?" asked Triton, voicing his concern and confusion more than asking for an answer.

Sebastian settled on the arm of Triton's throne. "Maybe it woke up and moved to somewhere else?"

"We both know that is not possible, Sebastian. I personally sealed the creature underground. The trident's spells can only be undone by the trident, and even then it would be no small task to do so." Triton sat down on his throne with a worried sigh. "Could you please put this with the others?" The king held out the scroll for Sebastian to take. The crab took the scroll and scurried over to a table piled high with scrolls, each bearing the same red seal. He climbed to the top of the pile and set down the scroll. It stayed in place for a moment, and then the entire pile gave way. Sebastian gave a surprised yelp as he went down with the paper avalanche. Scrolls spilled onto the floor and scattered in all directions.

Sebastian poked his head out from underneath the pile. "I'm sorry, your highness! I'll pick dem up right now." The crab set about rolling the scrolls up. If a red crab could blush from embarrassment, Sebastian would be crimson.

Triton yawned and swam over to his advisor. "No, I'm sorry Sebastian. I should have put these in my office days ago. Here, let me help." The king picked up a scroll and started rolling it up. His eyes unconsciously scanned the writing. The report was about a kraken harassing traders in the southern seas. The matter had been resolved when the beast mysteriously left. The king's gaze wandered to the other scrolls. One was a report of a nearby town being completely abandoned. Another concerned a family that went missing two months ago. He remembered that they were still unaccounted for. Another was about a sea monster attacking a group of soldiers out for a training mission in the wilds. Two of the soldiers were almost eaten before he had arrived.

It was not unheard of for these things to occur. Such happenings were a consequence of living in the ocean. What was unusual was the frequency. Triton usually received less than four in a year. In the last six months he had received more than six times that amount, not including the seaclops report.

'_What in the name of Poseidon is happening to this world_?' thought Triton.

The king's thoughts were broken by the sound of a trumpeter fish blowing its 'instrument.' A seahorse entered the throne room and bowed to the king. "Captain Urchin has returned from his mission! He requests an immediate audience with your highness!"

"Ah yes, Urchin," said Triton. "Please send him in at once." The seahorse bowed again and swam out of the room.

"Remind me how dat rascal got to become your captain," asked Sebastian as he put two scrolls back on the table.

"He is a good soldier, Sebastian, and I dare say one of the finest mermen this kingdom has ever seen. A king could not ask for a better captain. I cannot think of anyone else I would ask to take that mission."

A moment later Urchin swam into the throne room. "Your majesty," said the merman as he saluted the king.

Urchin had come a long way from the skinny prankster who had given Triton trick squid pens and driven his daughters crazy. He put on muscles during his military career that nearly rivaled the king's own. A long white scar ran from his neck across his right pectoral-a wound he received as a sergeant while fighting a colossal squid. A large scar he had received from a tiger shark sixteen years ago marked a patch of his shiny olive green tail. A neatly trimmed beard now complemented his sandy blonde hair. He wore silver arm bracers emblazoned with a trident as a sign of his rank. In his left hand he held a spear, his weapon of personal choice. Triton had blessed the weapon so that it would be near unbreakable. He had become fond of the young merman over the years, thinking of him as the son he never had.

However, it was the object in Urchin's right hand that had the king's attention- a familiar scroll with the red seal.

"Captain Urchin returning from the western seas, sir," said the young merman sharply.

"You can relax, Urchin. You and I have known each other far too long for you to be so formal," said Triton. Urchin hesitated a moment before lowering his salute.

"Here, let me get dat," said Sebastian as he swam to take the scroll. Urchin held out the scroll for the crab to take. "Thank you, mon." Sebastian had barely gone three claw strokes when a jolt of electricity surged through him, lighting him up like a glow shell. The crab yelped and dropped the scroll to the floor. It was motionless for a moment, and then a small electric eel swam out from between the dowels.

Urchin was trying not to double over with laughter. "Sorry, 'mon.' I couldn't resist." He picked up the scroll and swam over to Triton. "My report." Triton reached out to take it but hesitated. "I promise that was it, your majesty," assured Urchin, although his grin could have fooled anyone into thinking otherwise.

Triton could not help but smile. Urchin may have grown, but he had not lost his sense of humor.

"I'll bet it's not de last time either, mon," muttered Sebastian as he swam back to the remaining scrolls on the ground.

"Thank you, Urchin," said the king as he took the scroll. He was about to open it but then paused. "Since you are here, would you mind giving the report in person?"

"Not a problem, your majesty."

Triton swam back to his throne and sat down. "So...is it true?"

Urchin's face turned serious, his demeanor reverting back to that of a soldier. There was not a shred of humor in his voice as he spoke. "I fear it is, sire. Sharkania is abandoned."

* * *

Of the various alterations that had been done to the castle since the wall was removed, the beachside pavilion was the most impressive. The same size as the main ballroom where Melody celebrated that fateful twelfth birthday, it was frequently used for hosting parties for both humans and merfolk. The pavilion was circular in shape. Half of it extended out into the ocean with the support of stone pylons. A large pool had been constructed near the seaward end. At high tide the ocean was level with the pavilion and the pool filled to within a foot of the polished marble floor thanks to an underwater channel. Merfolk could socialize with the humans either from the pool or the seaward edges of the courtyard. Large Greek columns supported an intricate stone canopy with sea glass windows designed to reflect candlelight back onto the pavilion at night and reflect sunlight away during the day. Wisteria plants climbed up the columns, their pale purple flowers just now beginning to bloom. A staircase wound down the side of the pavilion to the beach.

In the early morning hours the pavilion was enchantingly peaceful, lacking the buzzing energy of an evening ball or social gala. The sea glass cast a thousand flecks of light onto the floor in a tapestry of whites, blues, reds, greens, and yellows. The royal family frequently took breakfast on the pavilion to enjoy the ocean sunrise. On summer afternoons Ariel and Melody could be found singing as they sat on the seaward edge, the spray of the waves tickling their bare feet-or fins, depending on the occasion.

Melody ran across the stone floor for the seaward edge. She had wolfed down a quick breakfast and two cups of strong black tea. She was feeling more alert as the food hit her system, but the insomnia induced ache in her head was persistent. She felt slumberous, as though the communication between her mind and body was garbled. Three days with less than six hours of sleep had that effect.

"Melody!"

The princess stopped and turned just before the seawater pool. Her father's head appeared to float at the edge of the pavilion as he walked up the staircase from the beach.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too," said Eric as he ascended the last step. "I was escorting your mother to the beach. She's going to see your grandfather this morning and visit friends."

"What for?"

"She's going to ask Triton-I mean, your grandfather- if he can do anything to help with your dreams."

Melody felt her weariness lighten immediately. If anyone could help her it was her grandfather and his magic trident. Surely he could do something about the nightmares. A moment later, however, her hope turned to anger. "Why didn't you go to him in the first place?"

Eric put an arm around Melody. "Because we don't want to rely on your grandfather to solve every problem we have. Your mother and I considered it earlier, but we were hoping the dreams would go away before that was necessary. After last night, though..."

Melody was annoyed, but she understood her father's hesitancy to ask her grandfather for help. If they asked for Triton's help with every problem that seemed to lack an immediate or easy answer, he would probably reconstruct the sea wall himself to keep them from pestering him.

Melody gave a heavy sigh. "I wish you had gone earlier. Or at least talked to me about it."

"We didn't want to put any more stress on you," said Eric. It was a poor excuse, but a true one. "Especially with you getting ready for your birthday party and everything."

Melody slapped her forehead. The party! How had she forgotten? They had only been planning it for the last six weeks. The festivities were set for less than a week from now. She glanced around the pavilion and saw pink and white banners in place, the light morning breeze causing them to undulate like the sea. 'Happy 19th Birthday Melody' was written in large gold letters on a banner at the seaward edge of the roof. She truly was sleep deprived if she had failed to notice those.

"Oh no," Melody groaned, "I told Scuttle to go get Tip and Dash so we could go exploring, but I'm supposed to get my dress fitted with Elaine this morning." Melody did not want to choose between her friends, especially not after what happened last night-or ever for that matter.

Eric gave a sad sigh. He hated seeing Melody like this. The dark circles under her eyes were approaching the color of bruises they were so dark. She was not the same person as a month ago. She was normally as vibrant and cheerful as she was headstrong, spreading smiles and good will to anyone she met. Now she was stoic and dull, drifting through her waking hours like a somber specter.

"Melody! Over here!" Eric and Melody looked up to see a familiar walrus and penguin floating in the surf. Scuttle was circling overhead. Tip was standing on Dash's head waving his arms frantically. The walrus decided to wave as well, knocking Tip into the ocean in the process.

"Hey, I'm waving here!" sputtered the penguin.

"Sorry," said the timid walrus as his feathered friend climbed back onto his head. He turned his attention back to Melody. "Come on! We're going glowshell hunting today!"

"As you requested, princess," called Scuttle, "one Titanic Tip and one Daring Dash!"

Melody looked to her dad. "What do you think, dad?"

Eric tussled the hair on her head affectionately. "I'll tell Elaine you're not feeling well this morning. You can get your dress fitted this afternoon when you get back."

Melody shifted uncomfortably. "Isn't that lying?"

"Well, do you feel perfectly healthy this morning?" Melody shook her head. "Then it's exactly a lie, is it? I'm sure Elaine will understand." Eric gave her a quick squeeze and kissed her forehead. "Now go have fun. I think the ocean will do you good."

"Hey, what's the holdup?" hollered Tip. "We're burning daylight here!"

"Coming!" Melody gave her father a proper hug. "I'll see you later. And thanks."

"Have fun, but be careful," said Eric. Melody nodded and broke into a run around the seawater pool. As she hit the edge of the pavilion she leapt off in a graceful swan dive, feeling the salty sea air rush past her. For a long second she fell through the air, weightless and free. Then she pierced the water's surface like a harpoon, making the faintest of splashes.

Shortly after the sea wall had been removed, Triton had granted an additional feature to Melody's locket. Whenever she entered the water while wearing the locket, it would become a spell that transformed her into a mermaid. The transformation would remain in place so long as she was in the water. The spell could only be removed if she was fully on land and wanted the spell to end. It was intended as a safety assurance so that she could not turn into a human while underwater. Melody was all too glad to make use of her grandfather's gift and did so frequently.

The spell went to work the moment her fingertips touched the ocean. The locket dissolved into a thousand specks of golden light that swirled around her. Melody felt a pleasant tingling as her legs fusing together into a tail and her feet became fins. She breathed in the ocean, feeling a pleasant cooling sensation fill her lungs as the transformation completed. The water wrapped around her like a lukewarm bath, washing away the worries for a brief moment. In that second she did not have nightmares, or birthdays, or dresses that needed to be fitted. She was as free as the ocean itself. Then the world came back to her, as did her worries, but not as strong as before. The weight of her woes had not been lifted from her completely, but for now it was a tiny bit lighter. She gave her tail a few experimental kicks before swimming over to her friends.

"Hey guys," she said. "Ready to go exploring?"

"Does a penguin have feathers?" asked Tip. Melody laughed and nodded. It felt good to be in the water again.

"Let's go!" The trio dove under the water's surface and headed out to sea in search of new adventure with Scuttle following their trail from above.

* * *

Up on the pavilion Eric watched as the familiar red of Melody's tail headed out to sea alongside her friends. The three made quite an interesting group, but a stronger group of friends he could not think of. He remembered meeting them for the first time after Morgana's defeat. It was easy to see why Melody was such good friends with them. They were just as adventurous, curious, stubborn, and free-spirited as she was.

Morgana. After seven years the thought of that witch still made his skin crawl. Ursula may have been the better magician, but Morgana was more devious and clever, and to him that was a greater danger. She had nearly succeeded in breaking their family apart and taking over the oceans at the same time. Even after seven years of tranquility he could not shake the feeling that they would be better off with seeing the witch executed instead of frozen solid. Evil such as Morgana's was as rare as it was persistent. Still, he doubted she could survive seven years without food or water while encased in magic ice. He doubted that anything could for that matter.

At that moment he heard quick footsteps over the granite floor. He turned to see Grimsby walking briskly towards him.

"Sire, Lady Elaine is here to see Princess Melody for the dress fitting."

Eric looked out to sea once more, trying to catch a glimpse of his daughter. Seeing only the undulating water, Eric turned his attention to Grimsby. "Tell her that Melody is not feeling well this morning. Ask if she would be willing to wait until this afternoon instead."

The advisor nodded curtly. "Very well, sire. Also, the leaders of the other kingdoms are here. They are waiting for you in the main hall."

Eric pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not want to be dealing with official business this early in the morning. Not after last night's events.

"Shall I ask them to return later, your majesty?" asked Grimsby, sensing Eric's reluctance to begin kingly duties after such a rough night.

"No, it's fine." Eric scratched his chin pensively. "I'll go and get ready. Please have some breakfast sent up to our quarters."

"Any requests sire?" asked Grimsby as Eric walked back to the castle.

"Tea. And make it strong."

* * *

In the dark depths of the ocean was a deep canyon. The canyon was darker than the darkest of moonless nights. Light had never touched the deepest parts of this chasm, and it was unlikely that light ever would.

Three presences were hiding in the canyon's shadows-evil ones to be precise. One was the leader of the group. The other two were its subordinates. All were malicious to some extent, but the leader was far more vicious and vile than the others. Compared to it the subordinates were like mischievous children.

"Are you clear on the plan?" said the leader.

"Yes, your malevolence," said one of the subordinates flatly. "The plan will be carried out as per your instructions."

"Humph!" snorted the second one, "I don't see why we're doing this. I say we go in full force and slaughter them all right now!"

"And I say you will do what I tell you to, you piece of fish bait," snapped the leader. "Your job is to follow orders, not give your worthless opinions."

"And what if I go to the master with this scheme of yours? How worthless is my opinion the-?"

There was a sound of something moving very fast and grabbing onto something else. The insubordinate presence made a raspy choking noise as though it was being strangled.

"Don't you threaten me, chumblood! You breathe one word of this and I'll fillet you alive and feed you to the sharks," snapped the leader. There was a crash followed by ragged coughing as the leader allowed its subordinate to breathe again.

"Forgive the young one," said the first subordinate. "He is young and impulsive. He will soon learn his place."

"See to it that he does," said the leader. "I've no tolerance for disobedience or hot-headedness." There was a rustling noise as the leader retrieved something for its subordinates. "You will use these to infiltrate. Get in before the evening starts and then be ready to pounce at the opportune moment. You must not fail in your task."

"If this plan is so important why don't you do it yourself?" coughed the rebellious one.

"Because I will be helping the master," lied the leader. In truth it wanted to watch the show from a safe distance.

"So you say you serve him, yet you make secret plots behind his back?" accused the rebellious one. "Shows how deep your loyalties go."

"Just because I serve him does not mean I agree with him on all matters. His plan is too slow, and I want results now. Besides, where's the fun in being evil if people don't fear you?"

"If that is your will, then we shall see it done," said the obedient one.

"Now leave," ordered the leader. The two subordinates made for the cave exit to prepare for their mission. "Oh, one more thing..." The two subordinates stopped. "Make a mess." The leader began to laugh hysterically as its subordinates left, the malicious sound echoing off the canyon walls and into the dark ocean outside.

* * *

Out in the Devil's Steppe the sun was nearing its zenith. It was barely past nine and the heat was beyond oppressive. The sand was hot enough to cook on, creating such a number of heat mirages that hundreds of water-filled pools seemed to fill the spaces between sand dunes. Gusts of wind kicked up great plumes of sand, and cyclones dotted the horizon. A sandstorm was visible in the far north. It was dead silent except for the faint hiss of sand kicked up by the wind.

"BUZZ OFF, YOU OVERGROWN FISHBAIT!"

Well, almost silent.

The traveler was running across the top of a sand dune as fast as its legs would carry it, feet kicking up small clouds of grit with each step. Its sword bounced against its hip, the metal of the blade making a distinct clinking noise against the red scabbard. Its backpack bounced up and down comically like an inexperienced rider on a galloping horse.

A small mound of sand pursued the traveler as it ran. The traveler looked back and saw the mound closing in again. It was less than a meter behind its heel.

"Yikes!" The traveler put on a burst of speed, desperate to put some distance between itself and the pursuer. The mound increased its speed in turn, closing in even faster now. The traveler decided to trade speed for agility. It dodged left, stepping on the hem of its cloak in the process. The cloak went taught and pulled on its shoulder, sending the traveler rolling down the side of the dune in a bundle of sand, cloak, pack, and yelling. The world spun in a discordant blur of blue sky and tan sand until the traveler reached the bottom of the dune. The traveler landed flat on its face, knocking the wind out of it and throwing the sword and pack several feet away.

"Owwwww," moaned the traveler as it worked to regain its breath. The sound of shifting sand brought the traveler back to full alert. This was no time to worry about bruises. It scrambled for the sword, sincerely regretting putting its knives in the pack.

Suddenly the sand beneath the sword erupted, launching the blade high into the air. The round white head of a devil worm emerged, cavernous mouth open to expose four circles of yellow hooked teeth. It let loose a raspy high-pitched howl from its maw, angry that its prey had evaded it for so long. Large bony spines projected from its thick body, and a sickle tipped tail lashed about in the sand ten paces away.

The worm reared back and struck like a viper. The traveler barely managed to dodge in time. The worm's teeth ripped through the end of its cloak like a pinecone through tissue paper. Its head penetrated several feet into the ground with the force of the strike, sending up a cloud of sand. The sound of clinking metal told the traveler its sword had landed. A quick glance behind the worm revealed the sheathed sword point down in the sand. The traveler made a dash for the sword while the worm dislodged its head. The worm's tail lashed out at the traveler's neck. Instead of ducking the traveler dived forward, the bone sickle passing close enough to brush the cloak. The traveler tucked into a roll, righting itself beside the sword. Just as it grasped the sword the worm's tail came back again, this time catching the traveler in the back with the flat of its tail. The traveler rolled across the sand and recovered into a crouch. Adrenaline dulled the pain in its back to a discomforting ache.

Before the traveler could draw its sword the worm turned and lunged again. The traveler instinctively shoved the sheathed sword lengthwise across the creature's mouth, blocking its diabolical jaws from finding the traveler's head. The worm bit savagely, jaws making a terrible snapping noise with each bite. A long prehensile tongue tipped with a poisonous barb shot out, missing the traveler's face by inches. The worm reared back and struck twice more. Its strength was immense. The traveler was stronger than any average human, but the worm was pushing it backwards with each strike, feet digging shallow trenches in the soft sand.

The worm reared back for another strike. It was the break the traveler had been waiting for. As the worm lunged the traveler darted to the side, causing the worm to smash its head into the sand again. It was now or never. The traveler stepped forward and drew the sword in one fluid motion. The blade arced through the worm in an upward slash, the razor edge passing through it as though cutting water. The worm gave a loud, brief shriek before its head separated from its body. It convulsed in its death throes for a few moments, and then went limp.

The traveler walked up to the worm, sword at the ready. Blue blood leaked from the worm onto the sand. The traveler prodded the worm with its foot. No reaction. A prod with the tip of the sword elicited the same result. The traveler gave a sigh of relief and sat down, letting the tension roll off it like a receding wave from the beach.

"How the hell did I forget about you guys?" asked the traveler to the dead worm. Of all the dangers of the Devil's Steppe, the one that the traveler had been most warned about were the devil worms. They were large subterranean creatures that preyed on anything and anyone foolish enough to stray too far into the desert. They would attack anything that moved, even if it was bigger than them. The worms moved effortlessly through the loose sand of the dunes thanks to their spines. The spines were as hard as stone, affording the worms protection from weapons and each other. They had no eyes, relying on touch and sound to find prey. The traveler made a note to be quieter if it encountered one again. Devil worms were rarely seen in the desert, but it was unclear if this pattern was due to low numbers of the worms or a smaller number of witnesses surviving encounters with them. The traveler was inclined to believe it was the later.

The traveler looked at its sword. The mirrored metal of the long-bladed ninjato was covered with dark blue worm blood. Parts of it had already dried on as a thick crust. The smell was like rotting vegetation mixed with a chicken coop.

"Oh, come on! I just cleaned this!" The traveler tried to rub off some of the dried blood on the worm but instead discovered the crust was more like sticky mucus. The traveler pulled a face at the foul liquid-not that one could have seen its face under the goggles and shemagh. It considered using some of its water to clean off the blade, but water was too precious a commodity. The traveler wiped off as much of the blood onto the worm as possible and sheathed its sword. It would make sure to give the weapon a proper cleaning at the next opportunity.

The backpack had fared worse than the sword. The worm had smacked it with its tail when it attacked, ripping the flap off the top. Food, cooking supplies, knives, and other necessary implements were scattered across the sand. The traveler reached for one of its two canteens, thirsty for a drink after the encounter. The canteen felt unusually light. A quick turn of the canteen revealed a large worm spine embedded in the side, water dripping off it. The traveler shook the canteen and listened for the telltale splashes of water. It was greeted with silence.

The traveler swore loudly. That was at least half of its remaining water supply gone. Crossing the desert on time had just become a life or death situation...not that it was anything but life or death to begin with. The remaining canteen would barely cover the rest of the journey across the desert. If there was no water in the White Iron Mountains when it got there...

The traveler pushed the thought from its mind, muttering as it packed up the rest of its supplies. The moment it slung the backpack over its shoulder one of the straps broke. The traveler's patience followed suit.

"Great! That's just perfect!" it shouted, dropping the pack onto the ground. "I've been chased around by a freaking worm all morning, got dad's sword covered in bug juice, lost half my water, and to top it off I have a broken pack to carry everything in! How can this day get any worse?"

The desert was silent in its response save the incessant hiss of sand in the wind and the movement of the dunes. The traveler gave a heavy sigh. Being angry was a waste of time and energy. The only thing to do was keep moving. The traveler reached down to grab its pack when it heard a new noise behind it. It was a rhythmic crunching and squelching noise with intermittent tearing-the unmistakable sound of something feeding on something else.

As the traveler slowly turned to look behind, it remembered one particular piece of information a caravan leader had told it.

Devil worms will feed on anything they can find.

Including each other.

Five new worms were feeding on the dead one like a pack of starving vultures. Their jaws tore large chunks from the body with sickening ripping sounds. Their teeth crushed the spines of the dead worm like twigs, wolfing down the chunks with gross squelching and popping sounds. The worms squealed and hissed with pleasure as they fed.

The traveler was deathly still. This was the worst possible scenario. It had already wasted time and energy evading and then killing the first worm. Expending energy on a fight with five worms was even worse than being chased by one. It had no idea why they had not attacked with all the yelling it did, but the traveler was not complaining. Very slowly the traveler picked up its pack and started to back away. It moved like the snowfall, trying to make each step as soundless as a snowflake on water. The worms ignored the traveler, fixated on the feast in front of them. Step after anxious step the traveler moved further away, never taking its eyes off the gruesome feeding frenzy. The only sound was the grotesque orchestra of the feeding worms.

Right up till the bottom of the pack gave out, spilling everything onto the ground. The sound was little louder than a polite sneeze, but at that moment it might as well have been a church bell signaling a fire.

All five worms turned towards the traveler, their attention completely fixated on the new noise.

"Oh sh-!"

The worms all shrieked in unison before launching at their new prey.

* * *

**AN: so what's the consensus on the latest addition to LM4? As always your input is welcome and your constructive criticism is appreciated. I will probably be putting out chapters at a slower rate from now on due to life impeding my ability to write. I will at least try to put a chapter out every 2-3 weeks. Stay tuned for more!**


	3. Chapter 3: Politics and Predators

Chapter 3: Politics and Predators

The traveler stood panting in the desert, cloak and shemagh discarded on the ground. The silver metal of its sword was marred by blue worm blood. Around the traveler were the remains of more than twenty devil worms. The blue blood on the sand was the first moisture the desert had seen in decades. The bodies were covered with lacerations, rips, bites, and burns. Some wounds had come from the traveler's sword. Others had come from worms. Several larger ones were burned to a blackened char, their ashen husks sending up wisps of acrid black smoke like the corpses of tall pines after a fire. Large swathes of scorched sand and glass covered the ground around them. Out in the distance several worms fled the scene, the humps of moving sand disappearing into the side of dunes.

It had been a last resort. The traveler had wanted to avoid using 'that,' but the situation had become desperate. More worms had arrived immediately after the first attack, the noise of fighting and the smell of blood like a dinner bell. In less than two minutes the situation had escalated beyond the traveler's normal capacity. One worm was hazardous but not unbeatable. Even five worms were manageable-tricky, but manageable. But five at once followed by nearly six times that number, several of which were approaching fifty feet in length? A fully guarded caravan would have been massacred. Even then the traveler felt that it was overkill.

The true stroke of luck had been the voracious hunger of the worms themselves. The moment one was injured, the other worms would turn on it, not willing to pass up the opportunity for an easy meal. A well-placed slash or stab immediately made the injured worm a target for its fellows. They set onto their wounded brethren like sharks to a shipwreck.

The traveler swung the sword, scattering the blood onto the ground before it sheathed the weapon. It wrapped the shemagh around its head, once more obscuring its face. The traveler stared into the maw of a dead worm, its body bearing the marks of its kin's teeth. It was perfectly evolved for desert life-fast, decisive, and lethal. There was no malice or vengeance in the worm's attack. It was survival.

'_Humanity never ceases preaching its superiority over the untamable and dangerous savagery of the wilds_,' thought the traveler. '_Yet I doubt it's as superior as it would like to believe_.'

Cloak and the remains of its pack secure once more, the solitary traveler set off toward the red star, leaving behind a scene of carnage in the emptiness of the Devil's Steppe.

* * *

Eric walked down the long hallway to the main dining hall. He was dressed in a dark blue naval uniform complete with sword at his side. The gold buttons shone as he passed thought the light from the windows. At his side was Grimsby, dressed in his best jacket and pants. The advisor looked the picture of elegant professionalism, a single roll of parchment in his hand.

A waft of sleepiness pulled a yawn from Eric. The tea had yet to bring him to full alertness, despite his suspicion that Louis had brewed it with lamp oil. It was some of the strongest tea he had ever tasted, but it was not so strong that it could remove morning grogginess completely.

The yawn failed to escape Grimsby. "Are you alright, sire?"

Eric nodded. "Just tired." Several more steps and he was at the large double doors of the dining hall. A pair of armored guards saluted smartly before opening the doors.

The dining hall was the same one that Eric and Ariel had first eaten in together nearly twenty years ago. Back then she was a voiceless girl under the spell of a sea witch, and he a love-struck prince bent on finding the woman who had rescued him, unaware that she sat right next to him. Thousands of meals with Ariel and Melody had passed since that day, yet it still felt like only yesterday. The long table had been removed from the room and replaced with a single oaken round table and four chairs. A single quill and ink well stood in the center of the table. The giant windows let in the morning light and afforded a majestic view of the sea. Eric stared out to the waters, a part of him hoping to catch a glimpse of the familiar crimson or black hair of his wife or daughter.

The side door to the hall opened with a heavy wooden thud. A portly man walked through. It would be quite accurate to call him plump, for his large belly protruded well over his belt. His maroon tunic and leggings and brown belt strained to contain him, as though he had been packed into his clothes instead of being dressed in them. A white regal cloak draped down from his shoulders to his ankles, accenting the bushy silver and red beard and eyebrows on his face. The top of his balding head was faintly visible through the points of his gold crown.

"Ben!"

The man jumped at his name being called. When he saw Eric his bearded mouth curled in a happy smile.

"Eric! Good to see you, lad!" The portly man walked over and pulled Eric into such a strong hug that the young king felt his back pop several times before the man put him down.

"Good to see you too, my friend," wheezed Eric as air filled his lungs once more. The old king's brown eyes twinkled with a childish happiness. King Ben was a longtime friend of Eric's father, as well as Melody's godfather. His friendship with Eric's father had created and maintained an alliance that had lasted long past the death of Eric's father. His jolly personality, generous nature, and love of children had earned him the title of Good King Ben. "Tell me, how is Melody these days?"

"Yes, how is the princess?" said a thin voice. Both kings turned to see another man walk through the door. This man was the opposite of King Ben. He was thin and wispy like a willow. His dark blue tunic hung on his frame like a sheet draped over a chair. A dark blue regal cloak with a brown fur hem hung from his shoulders, the end barely skimming the floor. The cloak looked heavy on him, as though his body might collapse at any moment under the weight of the fabric. His face was like a hawk, eerie blue eyes ceaselessly scrutinizing over his hooked nose and thin lips. The golden crown on his head seemed inappropriately large, his silver and black hair sticking out from underneath the rim.

"Ah, King Willard," said Eric, offering his hand. "Melody is doing well. How nice of you to join us." Neither of those statements was entirely truthful.

Willard stared at Eric's hand as though expecting it to do something unnatural, and then took it in a vice-like grip. "Likewise," said the king. His hand was as cold as his eyes. Eric was not fond of King Willard. Nor was Ben. Nor was much of anyone for that matter. There was something genuinely unpleasant about his presence, although no one would be able to definitively identify what that disturbing feature was. He was an extremely shrewd and logical man with a nose for strategy in everything from politics to chess. His membership in the alliance was rocky at best, always looking out for himself before anyone else. The Fox King was a well-earned nickname.

Eric peered over Willard's shoulder to the door. They were short by one. "Where is King Gerrod? Has he not arrived yet?"

"No cause for worry, Eric," came a deep voice from behind him. Eric turned to see a giant of a man in a forest green tunic and a bright yellow regal cloak enter through the main doors. King Gerrod was known as the Mountain King for two reasons: his kingdom extended up into the White Iron Mountains, and he had the presence of a mountain as well. His arms were as big around as a normal man's thigh and his footsteps echoed in the hall like a falling tree. His powerful chest and shoulders were clearly discernible under his clothes. He stood a full head and neck over Eric. His long dishwater blonde hair was as unkempt as his beard, as though he had just brushed it for the first time in several years. A golden signet encircled his head. Striking green eyes peered down at the three kings from beneath bushy eyebrows.

"Gerrod!" said Benjamin, walking over to the gigantic king. "I see you have not shrunk since we last met."

"Nor have you, old friend," said Gerrod, his giant hand enveloping the jolly king's in a firm handshake. Ben laughed good-naturedly at the jab. "Touché, my dear fellow."

"Everyone is present and accounted for," said Willard matter-of-factly. "Shall we get started?"

Eric motioned to the table. "Yes. Please be seated, your majesties." The kings removed their crowns and set it on the table before taking their seats. Eric removed his sword in place of a crown.

"Now, to business," said Eric. The mood of the room suddenly turned serious. This was now a place of business and politics. A stern iron came to Ben's eyes, and Willard pressed his finger to his temple in pensive contemplation. "I have heard the reports from your kingdoms, but I wish to hear it firsthand from each of you."

"It is as my letter dictated," said Willard flatly. "I have seen a slight increase in pirate attacks and incidents of slave traders attempting to move their wares through my streets. Some ships have gone missing as well. Still, nothing I cannot handle on my own," added the hawkish king with a cocky sneer. Eric was not convinced he was telling the entire truth.

"It is not so manageable in the north," said Benjamin. His voice was commanding and decisive now, holding none of its former frivolity. "In the past two months we have had more than thirty ships go missing at sea. Fifteen towns, coastal and inland, have been found completely abandoned or ransacked. There are rumors of sea monsters and demons haunting our shores. One of our naval officers claimed that he saw a schooner being pulled down by a sea serpent. We recently found a beached wreck of one of the trade ships. The damage is unique to say the least-as though a giant hand crushed it. I am being swamped with requests from trade ships and towns for naval escorts and troops for protection."

Gerrod folded his arms. "My kingdom does not border any oceans as yours do, but we have no fewer or lesser problems. Bandit gangs and thieves are robbing our trade caravans blind. Frontier towns and logging camps are being found abandoned or destroyed, whether by man or beast I cannot say for certain. Families have husbands, wives, children, and friends disappearing. Smugglers and slavers are using our forests to hide their wares. My cavalry patrols have captured three slaver caravans in the past month alone. Werewolf packs are appearing for the first time since the days before the alliance. A dozen towns have been ravaged by them already."

The room was silent for a long moment as the kings let the information sink in. Ships disappearing at sea. Slave traders and bandit attacks. Abandoned towns and villages. People vanishing. Werewolves and strange monsters roaming the mountains. Eric knew of the strange happenings under the sea thanks to Ariel. This news only added to his worry. Less than a year ago these sorts of things were almost unheard of. Now they were weekly happenings.

'_What is happening to this world_?' thought Eric. '_Where have the peaceful days gone?_'

Gerrod rubbed his eyes tiredly. Eric now noticed the dark circles forming under the giant king's eyes. '_He looks just as tired as Melody_,' he thought to himself.

"Anything else," asked Willard. It was closer to a demand than a request.

Gerrod remained silent for a moment, and then leaned forward. "There are rumors from the mining towns. They say a giant white beast has moved into the forest. It roams the woods like a ghost, leaving no trace of its presence. They hear it howling like a wolf in the night up in the White Iron Mountains. They say it sounds like the mountains singing. They find strange tracks in the woods belonging to no creature they recognize, and werewolf packs and bandit gangs torn to shreds. They are not sure if they should fear or admire it."

"Superstitions of simple backwoods people," scoffed Willard with a dismissive wave. "The wilds are already mysterious enough without rumors of some animal stalking the woods. It was probably a white bear from the mountains or some other beast. Staying too long in the forest does things to the mind."

Gerrod scowled at Willard. "My people may be a bit rough from living in the mountains, sir, but they are not simpletons ruled by superstition that mistake salamanders for dragon whelps. If they say this creature is not a bear or wolf then you can be sure that it is neither of those."

"Eric, what about events in your kingdom?" interrupted Ben, eager to shift the topic before a true argument broke out.

"We've had similar happenings," answered Eric, hoping to keep the kings from starting an argument. "Two coastal towns and one inland village were found abandoned. Ships are disappearing in our waters. Our navy is struggling to keep our waters safe from a rapid increase in pirate activity. As of last winter we had not suffered a pirate attack in five years. As a result we had our military downsized to reduce our spending. In the past year we had more than ten incidents of piracy and almost three times as many ships disappear. We are now scrambling to develop our navy and army back to their former strength so we can protect our people and trade routes. Already, several trading companies have stopped sending ships to our ports."

"If you are having such problems, why not ask your father-in-law for protection?" sneered Willard. "Or does the merman not meddle in the affairs of his 'other' family?"

Now it was Eric's turn to scowl at Willard. He had been spiteful of King Triton ever since the treaty with Atlantica was signed shortly after Eric and Ariel were married. A portion of Willard's kingdom's most productive fishing grounds had been exchanged for lesser waters in the treaty. The king had begrudgingly signed in order to avoid conflict with the other alliance members. He made his opinion of Triton plain to all. Ships from his kingdom had been found poaching in the merfolk's waters multiple times. Suffice to say, he was not well liked by the merfolk or the people in Eric's kingdom.

This was especially true for Eric. Willard was nowhere near as friendly with Eric as he had been with Eric's father because of the young king's marriage to Ariel. Willard had a suspiciously coveting and vengeful eye for Ariel. Not a lustful sort of eye, but one that viewed her as an object to possess. He was also suspiciously supportive of Melody's realtionship with his son William. Eric liked the boy and felt he would be a good match for Melody, but he never pressured her on anything related to William. Willard, on the other hand, continuously pressured William to get closer to Melody. Eric could see Willard's political motives from beyond the horizon.

"King Triton has enough problems of his own to deal with," said Eric, "Do not forget that our treaty clearly states he is not to intervene in human affairs unless it directly pertains to the welfare of his kingdom."

"Or to his daughter," muttered Willard, just loud enough to be heard by everyone.

Eric narrowed his eyes. "Are you implying that Triton grants favor to my kingdom because of my wife?" accused the king, his temper starting to rise.

"That's exactly what I am implying," snapped Willard. There was a spiteful spark in his eyes. "You expect me to believe that Triton would stand idly by while the kingdom his daughter and granddaughter live in is threatened by an unknown enemy? Or that he would be unaware of what is happening to our ships when his kingdom is the ocean itself? I find it dubious to say the least."

"Then you are sorely mistaken. Our trade has been hurt no less than yours and we have shared all that we know with you, which, with respect, is something I doubt you have done." Eric paused for a deep breath, calming his temper before things escalated. "We are reaching a point where asking for Triton's assistance may be our only option, but I am working to avoid that possibility. In fact, that is one of the reasons I have called you all here." Eric motioned to Grimsby, who had been standing at the door during the entire conversation. Grimsby walked over and presented Eric with the rolled parchment. "As I mentioned, our military force is ill-equipped to protect out kingdom with the current state of events. If nothing is done we will lose more trade, more people, and our kingdom will likely take a turn for the worse."

"What do you propose?" asked Ben.

Eric held up the parchment. "What I have here is a contract. As you know, our kingdom is in an optimal position for access to the designated fishing grounds. We also have a strong trade in pearls and jewels with the merpeople, who view both with much less value than humans do." Eric looked to Benjamin and Willard. "In exchange for aid from your kingdoms, we will allow your fishing fleets direct access through our kingdom to the fishing grounds and encourage the merfolk to trade in pearls and other precious gems with you." Eric now turned to Gerrod. "For you, we would concede twenty thousand acres of forested land and one of our silver mines in exchange for timber and construction supplies, temporary military aid, and access to our ports for ocean trade." Eric turned his focus back to the table in general. "This would provide us with the protection and materials and time to build our navy's strength while protecting our trade routes. After the fleet has been established you would have your ships and men returned to you. Naturally, you retain the privileges granted in this contract."

Benjamin held out his hand. "If you please." Eric nodded and handed him the contract. The king's eyes darted left to right as he read. For several long minutes no one said anything.

"Your terms are quite agreeable," said Benjamin. He took the quill from the inkwell and scribbled an eloquent signature onto the bottom of the page. He gave the signature a few blows to dry the ink before handing the document to Gerrod. "I have long wished to establish trade with the merfolk, both for economics and my own curiosity. Tell me, what commodities do they show preference for?"

"They have a fondness for a variety of human things," said Eric. "Telescopes, music boxes, dining utensils, mirrors, and tools to name a few. They also love music. A composition or musical score is a valuable commodity to them."

Gerrod nodded and signed the document with his bold signature. "I concur with Ben," he agreed as he passed the document to Willard. "The agreement is beneficial for both our kingdoms and the alliance as a whole. Tell me, are the merfolk fond of woodwork or silver?"

"Not particularly," confessed Eric. "Most woodwork tends to loose its integrity when submerged in ocean water. And silver seems to dissolve after a while. Something to do with the salt water."

Gerrod scratched his beard thoughtfully, wondering what would cause silver to dissolve in seawater. Eric and Benjamin directed their attention to Willard, who was still reading the details of the contract. It was impossible to read the man's face for any sign of agreement or protest. A clam would have displayed more emotion.

After several tense minutes Willard set the paper down. "The terms are indeed beneficial to the alliance," he said, but Eric could sense a calculated reservation in his voice.

"However…" Willard folded his arms. "Surely you know that my kingdom's relationship with the merfolk is strained because of the treaty and the disobedience of some of my fishermen. We are hardly on speaking terms with them right now. I cannot imagine that they would be as eager to trade with us as with the rest of you. Also, lending so many ships and troops for such a long period of time may also weaken our defenses. I see no benefit to my kingdom if I leave it vulnerable to protect yours. Therefore, your proposition places me in a less favorable position compared to the rest of you.

"That being said," continued Willard, "I may be inclined to agree to your contract and then some, provided I am granted the proper incentive. I am very interested in improving my relationship with the merfolk." The corners of his mouth curled in a clever grin, making Eric nervous. He knew that look well enough to know that he would not like what was coming next. "Perhaps a marital arrangement between your daughter and my son William would smooth things out between Triton and myself?"

Any of that morning grogginess that the tea had not driven out of Eric was immediately quashed. His grip on the arm of his chair caused the wood to creak as he kept his temper under control. Ben and Gerrod sensed the sudden change in Eric, instinctively leaning away from him. "If you are implying that I arrange a marriage between our children in exchange for your compliance, then I would advise you to cease speaking on the matter any further."

Willard ginned. He was enjoying watching Eric squirm. "I fail to see the issue here. They are already quite fond of each other. I've seen the way she looks at him. Why not make their relationship official? I benefit by having improved relations with the merpeople, and you benefit by having a legitimate heir to your thro-."

"Be silent."

Willard's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Excuse me?"

_BAM!_

All of the kings jumped at the noise of the chair hitting the hardwood floor as Eric shot to his feet. The young king's fists were clenched as he leaned towards Willard. If Willard wanted to play a game of thrones, then Eric was more than happy to oblige him. And he was not an inexperienced player.

"Listen closely," said Eric, his voice as menacing as a shaving razor over skin. His eyes bore into Willard with such intensity they could have started a fire. "Melody and William are quite fond of each other, and I happen to like your son. My wife likes your son. My father-in law likes your son. If the two of them decide to pursue their feelings, then I will give them my fullest blessing." Now Eric leaned even further toward Willard, making the king press himself into his chair. "However, I will not have my daughter used as a bargaining chip for your ambitions, or have her right to the throne questioned by a fox like you. I married for love, and I will not deny her that same privilege even if it takes another nineteen years. If you _ever _dare to imply that my daughter is not a suitable ruler by her own virtue, or attempt to bribe us or force her into an arranged marriage, I _will_ cease any and all relations between our kingdoms. Or would you rather I tell King Triton about the secret orders to your fishing fleets to bring you any mermaids should they catch one, despite our treaty ordering their immediate release?"

Willard's face was turning pink as he wilted under Eric's glare. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm sure you don't. But you do know that one word to Triton about this and not one of your ships will be welcome in the ocean till the day it dries up. I cannot imagine he would take kindly to you trying to play matchmaker with his granddaughter, or trying to catch one of his subjects. So…" Eric let go of his sword, hands folded neatly behind his back, his face the picture of calm. "Will you sign the contract, or won't you?"

Willard glared at Eric, his face now turning an unnatural shade of red. His temper was ready to boil over into a violent rage. For a moment Willard looked as though he would snatch Eric's sword and skewer him. But he knew Eric had won. The young king had him in a corner. He had turned his threat back against him. His mind searched for a way out, some piece of information he could use to turn the odds in his favor. Nothing came to mind. Reluctantly he took the quill from the inkwell and scribbled a hasty signature onto the parchment.

"Well played, boy" spat the defeated king. He snatched his crown from the table and stormed out, muttering curses on Eric and the merpeople under his breath.

* * *

Things were much more pleasant out in the ocean. Melody was feeling like a new person. The water rushed past her as she swam, the colors of the coral flashing by her in a blur of reds, blues, and whites. She was weightless and without worry. She wondered if this is what flying felt like. It was so easy for her to move in the water. A kick of her powerful tail and she was moving faster than she could ever swim as a human. She skimmed above a field of seaweed like a sparrow over a field of wheat, running her hands over the tips of the plants.

It had been a wonderful morning. Tip and Dash had taken her to a canyon filled with radiant orange anemones. Swimming through them was like gliding through a hall of candles, their tentacles gently brushing her skin and tail. It was not scary like her nightmare, but relaxing and pleasant. Then they played hide and seek in an old shipwreck with a school of fish. Melody had successfully hidden in an old chest until Dash had to call for her to come out. Tip had more difficulty hiding considering that sunken ships were not ideal for concealing a two-ton walrus. Now they were racing to Shark Canyon, the source of the glow shells. Melody hoped there was no foul tempered octopus like the one her mother encountered as a teenager.

A circular stone arch appeared in the distance. Melody put on a burst of speed and threw herself into a spin. She shot through the opening like a well-aimed arrow. She stopped her spin and oriented herself back towards the archway. Tip aimed for the same hole she had come through. The small penguin shot through nearly as fast as Melody. Not to be outdone, Dash put on more speed. He was less than thirty feet from the hole when Melody saw a flaw in the walrus' plan.

"Dash, wait! That hole is too-"

_THOMP!_

"...small."

The walrus was wedged firmly in the arch. The stone encircled him like a giant belt. The walrus pushed against the stone with all his might, but he was stuck tight. Melody and Tip were nearly doubled over with laughter as they watched Tip try to free himself.

"Um...a little help please," asked Dash sheepishly.

Melody and Tip stopped laughing long enough to swim behind their behemoth counterpart and push. The scene of the tiny penguin and young mermaid trying to push the walrus through the stone loop was comical to say the least. Dash's blubber made getting a good plant on his body difficult. Melody and Tip constantly had to reposition themselves for better leverage.

"When we *_umph_* get back *_grunt_* to Atlantica *_oomph_* you are going *_huff_* on a diet," panted Tip in between pushes.

"You've been eating *_oof_* kelp candies again, haven't you?" asked Melody as she leaned into Dash.

"Only a few," confessed the walrus.

Tip gave up and slumped to the ground. "A few what? Bags?"

Melody laughed. The comical antics of Titanic Tip and Daring Dash never failed to put a smile on her face. "Don't worry, Dash. I'll go find something to get you out." She swam off in search of something to extract the jammed walrus. She could hear Tip and Dash arguing behind her over the amount of kelp candies that would be considered normal for a walrus versus a 'bird that can't fly.'

Melody scanned the sea floor, looking for a piece of driftwood or a strong piece of kelp she could use. She had a feeling it would be a while before she found anything. Colorful corals and bunches of seaweed lined the rocks and bottom. The sunlight became a dancing web pattern on the sea floor. As she searched, a nagging feeling began to grow in the back of her mind. Something was off about the ocean this particular day, some normally overlooked detail that she rarely paid heeds to. But what? She felt significantly better than she had earlier that morning, albeit a bit tired. Tip and Dash were just as funny and cumbersome as they always were. The corals were no different, and the seaweed swayed with the ebb and flow of the current as it always did. The water was the same pleasant cool temperature as usual. A small fish darted out of a coral for a moment before bolting for a small rocky-.

The fish! Melody looked around her, confirming her suspicion. There was not a single fish, turtle, shrimp, crab, or octopus anywhere in sight. This part of the ocean usually teemed with a wide variety of aquatic inhabitants. Today it was empty, as though the fish had never been there at all. It was silent except for the rustle of the seaweed and the lulling hum of the ocean waves above.

A flash of yellow from a nearby patch of seaweed drew Melody's attention. The yellow tail of a masked butterflyfish stuck out from the green plants. Wanting answers for the sudden disappearance of her underwater neighbors, Melody swam down to the tiny fish. "Excuse me, but where is everyone?"

"Shhhhh! No noise! It's not safe here!" said the fish, fin pressed to its 'lips.'

"Why? What's happening?" asked Melody in a whisper.

The fish turned to face Melody. An expression of fear masked its face. "Just hide, or he'll find you!" The butterflyfish buried itself deeper in the seaweed.

Melody pulled back the weeds. The fish was cowering in fear, body shaking uncontrollably. "Who will?" The fish looked at Melody with genuine terror in its eyes.

"Riptide."

Melody was about to ask whom or what Riptide was when a smell hit her nose. It was a scent she rarely experienced, and for a moment she could not place it. But to anyone who has smelled it even once, the stench of death is unmistakable. It worked its way into her senses until it blocked out all other scents. The smell made Melody nauseous, forcing her to cover her mouth to keep from retching. Every nerve in her body felt instantaneous repulsion at the stimulus.

"He's coming!" The butterflyfish bolted for another patch of seaweed, diving deep into the green foliage.

Melody kept her mouth and nose covered, although it did little to block out the smell. She should have headed back to Tip and Dash right then, but her natural curiosity got the better of her. Cautiously she swam in the direction of the scent. The nauseating smell got stronger with each stroke of her tail. She fought back the urge to gag and kept moving forward, determined to discover the source of the horrific smell. The seaweed gave way to an expanse of white sand. Was she mistaken, or was there something resting on the ocean floor? No, there was definitely an object resting on the sandy bottom. The mermaid swam closer until the object became clear.

The body of a humpback lay on the ocean floor-or rather, what was left of one. A large section of the giant's back and left flipper was missing. The tail was nowhere to be seen. Its jaw had been broken, hanging open at an unnatural angle. The skin was unnaturally pale, decay leaching out the colors of life. Jagged pieces of broken bone stuck out of the wounds.

Melody stared in astounded horror. She had found dead whales before. Once in a rare while one would wash up on the beach, carried by the currents after it died. Others sank to the bottom and became skeletons, eventually returning to the ocean sand. But she had never seen one in such a state as this. Nor did she know of a creature that could hunt and kill a full-grown humpback whale.

A glare of light from the sandy bottom caught her attention. Melody swam closer to the corpse, fighting back the nausea as best she could. Another glare drew her attention to a small white object nestled in the sand. She stopped over the top of the object. It was buried under the sand, a small section of smooth white stone the source of the glare. Melody gave a few flaps of her tail to blow away the sand. The cloud of grit obscured the object from view for a moment as the particles swirled in the water. As the sand settled back down, the object became discernible.

The largest tooth Melody had ever seen lay in the sand. The arrow shaped tooth was nearly two feet long and as wide as a dinner plate. The edges were finely serrated, perfect for ripping through prey. Flecks of red and black whale meat marred the pearly white surface and the serrated edge. This was not just the tooth of a predator. This was the tooth of a whale hunter.

Melody reached down and picked up the tooth by its base. It was surprisingly heavy, requiring her to use both hands to grasp it. Melody remembered Undertow's teeth being no longer than her fingers, and he was exceptionally large for a shark. Giant squid could grow large enough to sink small ships, but they possessed no teeth. Krakens were more than large enough to pull down a galleon, but they lacked teeth as well. What sort of monster was the owner of this tooth?

Melody felt a chill run down her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She stared out into the ocean beyond the dead whale. She saw nothing but the endless blue of the water, but deep in her gut she knew that something was there. Every instinct in her body was telling at her to flee. She had not felt such a strong instinct since her dream.

'_Swim_.'

Melody clutched at her head. She heard the voice, and yet she did not hear it with her ears. It was as though someone had spoken directly into her head. It was a deep booming voice, the sort of voice you would expect a god to have if it spoke to you. She looked around wildly, trying to find the source of the voice. She felt panic return, flashbacks of the nightmare scratching at her memory.

"Who's there?" asked Melody.

'_Get out of the water. Now_.'

"What? Why?"

'_Now!_'

Between the voice in her head and the gut feeling that was now screaming at her, Melody decided to listen. She dropped the tooth and swam as fast as her fins could carry her. The coral and seaweed became a blur as she swam. She was swimming faster than a barracuda, but she felt like she was swimming in molasses. Time seemed to crawl, each second stretched out to a minute. The dot of pink and black that was Tip and Dash quickly grew as she closed the distance. Tip was trying to pull Dash back through the archway by his tail now. They were less than a hundred feet away, but it felt like she swam a mile.

"Tip! Get Dash out of there!" she called.

Tip stopped pulling. "Melody? What's wrong?"

"No time," said Melody as she grabbed hold of Dash's tail. "We have to get out of here now!" She braced her tail against the stone and pulled with all her might. Tip grabbed hold and did the same.

"What's going on?" asked Dash.

"Something is coming!" said Melody, face pulled in a grimace of exertion, "I don't know what, but we have to get to shore now!" Melody felt that her arms were going to pop off with how hard she was pulling, but Dash remained stuck. "Wiggle!"

"Wha-?"

"Just do it!" shouted Melody. Dash immediately started to wiggle himself side to side. Melody could feel Dash coming free bit by bit. She looked around the stone arch. A very large dark shape was visible in the distance, moving closer to them. Fear gripped the three friends, paralyzing them like statues for a split moment.

Dash started to tremble. "Melody..."

"I see it! Pull harder!" Melody pulled with all the strength she could muster. DAsh gave two more wiggles, and then came free with a dull _pop_, rolling into Melody and Tip like an oversized bowling ball. The three went head over fin before stopping in mid-water. Melody righted herself and looked back. The shape was becoming clearer as it closed in on them. She could barely make out a cylindrical shape moving side-to-side in the water.

"What is that?" asked Tip.

"Just run-I mean, swim!"

The three friends turned for shore and swam as though Undertow, Morgana, Ursula, and a school of makos armed with tridents were after them. The world passed by in a blur. She barely noticed the shipwreck or the canyon of orange anemones in their mad dash for the safety of land. Time slowed down for them to an agonizing eternity of terror. They felt like they were crawling though the water, even though they were traveling faster than almost any creature in the sea. The water roared in Melody's ears like wind, triggering flashbacks that made her swim even harder. Her tail was burning from the exertion and lack of restful sleep, threatening to reach exhaustion. She could have sworn she heard the sound of tail strokes behind her. A part of her wanted to look back, curious as to the identity of their pursuer. She started to look behind.

'_Do not look._'

Melody snapped her head back to the front, as though she had been caught staring out the window during her lessons. How could it know? Who was the owner of that voice? Her questions were forgotten as the ocean floor began to rise up, a clear indication that they were approaching the shore. Melody could definitely hear tail strokes behind her now. Melody had a feeling it was not a gentle giant that was chasing her. Her tail felt like it was on fire. The power of her fin strokes was becoming weaker. Fear propelled her, but sequential sleepless nights were finally taking their toll. She could see the shoreline, but fatigue made the distance seem impossible. She was using her hands to help her swim now. Would she make it?

'_Jump_.'

"Jump!? I can barely swim!" gasped Melody.

'_Do it or die!_' yelled the voice. It was like a cannon going off in Melody's head.

Digging deep for one last push, Melody gave a powerful kick of her tail and aimed for the surface. She shot out of the ocean like an arrow, arcing through the air and onto the beach. The white sands rushed up to greet her, providing safety from whatever predator pursued them. The moment she touched the sand the spell reversed. Golden flecks of light enveloped her tail. She felt her legs painlessly reform as she rolled across the sand. The light collected around her neck as the golden locket reformed. A heavy _thump_ followed by a light _bomp_ told her that Tip and Dash had cleared the water as well.

"Melody, look!" shouted an upside-down Tip, pointing at the water excitedly.

A massive orange fin jutted from the water just short of the shallows. Not the triangular fin of a shark, or the long black fin of a killer whale. It was a spiny sail such as those on sailfish, though no sailfish had ever possessed a fin of this size. It was more than twice her height. The orange color was marked by electric blue spots, standing out against the sea like a flame against the night. Melody had never seen such a fin before, nor did she have any idea what the owner of that fin was. The only certainty she had was that their pursuer was the same creature that killed the whale; the same one that the massive tooth belonged to.

The fin remained still, as though its owner was contemplating whether or not to reveal itself and give chase onto the land. Then a giant lobed orange tail broke the water more than six hundred feet away from the fin. It slapped the ocean in frustration, sending a column of water taller than a ship's mast into the air. Defeated in its pursuit of a meal, the owner of the fin turned toward the open ocean and sank beneath the waves without so much as a ripple. Moments later the ocean was calm, showing no trace of the deadly leviathan hiding within its depths

Tip and Dash had stopped breathing and loudly resumed doing so. "What...was...that?!" asked Dash.

"I...I don't know," gasped Melody. She rolled onto her back, taking in deep breaths of air as the burn of exertion in her legs slowly faded away.

A feeling of despair settled on her. Was there nowhere safe for her? Her dreams were haunted by monsters and sea witches, and now her ocean was haunted by an unknown monstrosity capable of devouring whales. The one place she had felt safe was now as dangerous as her dreams. There was no way she could go back in the ocean if that thing was out there. It was just like when she was a child, except instead of a wall there was an unknown whale-killer that made Undertow look like a chew toy. She felt so helpless.

For the second time that day, Melody cried at the cruelty of fate and her inability to do anything about it. Her tears rolled down her cheeks into the sand, tiny drops of sorrow in the ocean she so loved.

* * *

**AN: Whew! Finally got this chapter done! Apologies to those of you who were eagerly waiting for the new chapter. Got caught up with life so story was on the backburner for a while. Hopefully it won't be as long of a wait for the next one. **

**As always, your input is welcome and constructive criticism is appreciated.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Mermaid or any of its characters. Everything else in the story, however, is mine.**


	4. Chapter 4: Uninvited Guests

Chapter 4: Uninvited Guests

"Death to ze crab!"

"Somebody help me!"

The setting sun was witnessing a familiar scene in the palace gardens. Sebastian the crab scrambled frantically over the stone pathways while a crazed Chef Louis pursued him, wielding a meat cleaver like an ax. The chef swung madly, smashing the blade into the stones with sharp clangs that sent sparks flying in all directions. Sebastian darted like a housefly to avoid the culinary calamity that was chasing him.

"I will 'ave you in my stew, crusta'ceon!" hollered the chef in his French accent, his normally well trimmed mustache as crooked as his present temperament. Sebastian climbed up a topiary trimmed to look like a seahorse. Louis swung in a horizontal chop at the crab, forcing Sebastian to jump off the botanical artwork. The blade decapitated the topiary, sending the green head into a spinning arc before splashing into the nearby pond.

"Give it up, mon!" shouted Sebastian as he landed on the nearby lawn. "You nevah caught me in twenty years and you're not gonna catch me now! Heeelp!"

The chef glared at Sebastian as though he could hear the crustacean's voice. He raised his cleaver for another strike.

"Louis! What are you doing?"

Louis froze mid swing. He turned to see Ariel hurrying up the stone pathway towards him. Her hair was done up in a tight bun. A silver tiara bearing a single large sapphire rested atop her head. Her dress was a blue ball gown embroidered with wave patterns around the bottom. A simple pearl necklace adorned her neck.

Both crab and chef stared for a moment, entranced by her beauty. Then Louis remembered he was holding a meat cleaver over his head like a lunatic. "Your 'ighness," he said with a sheepish grin, quickly hiding the chipped blade behind his back. He swept his hat off in a low bow, revealing his balding head. Sebastian darted for the safety of Ariel's dress.

"Would you care to explain why you're running around the garden with a knife when you should be in the kitchen getting Melody's cake ready?" she asked. She felt like a mother that had just caught her child in the cookie jar, or sneaking out to the sea.

"He was trying to stuff me for a snack...again!" said Sebastian as he poked his head out from under the hem of Ariel's dress. The chef's eyes watched him with the same focus as a dog watching a cat moments after its master had told it not to chase it.

"Sebastian says you were chasing him again," said Ariel, bending down to pick up her friend. Sebastian clambered up her arm and hid behind her neck.

"I was not!" denied the chef.

Ariel raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Eez ze truth, your 'ighness! I was...I was... going to give him a bath. Yes, zat's it. A bath. Ve all need to look _magnifique_ tonight!"

"Except to him I look 'magnifique' on a platter, mon," said Sebastian, poking his head out from behind Ariel's ear.

"Does the bath involve chopped vegetables and a stove?" asked Ariel.

"No."

"Then why do you have a cleaver?"

"Eez for chopping ze firewood... to heat ze bath," said Louis. "I, uh...lost my ax."

"Lost it? He threw it in de ocean! De last time I saw it, dat thing was flying at my head, mon!" said Sebastian.

Ariel had to stop herself from laughing. Sebastian and Louis had been engaged in this game of 'chef and crab' since their first encounter in Louis' kitchen. It was doubtful they would ever stop within her lifetime. Fortunately, she knew just how to handle the chef when he was like this. She walked over to Louis and began to fix his outfit. "Louis, I will make you a deal," she said as she straightened the chef's collar and brushed a patch of dirt off his shoulder. "If you will promise to stop chasing Sebastian for tonight, I will promise not to tell Carlotta about what you did to her garden."

Louis looked around and turned as white as the flour on his apron. The garden was normally an ornate arrangement of carefully manicured topiaries and lawn, well-tended flowerbeds, and a crystal clear pond with white lilies. A single large willow grew next to the pond, its green foliage looming over the water like an ancient sentinel. It now looked as though a typhoon had blown through. The chef's knife had left numerous chips in the stones of the walkway and mangled many of the plants. Several topiaries were missing large chunks, the flowers were trampled, the rosebushes were in pieces, and the grass looked as though a drunk Scotsman had played a round of golf on it after a night at the pub. Pieces of sod and plant material floated in the pond. The willow had a deep gash in the bark from where the chef had thrown his cleaver.

Louis fell to his knees, clutching at Ariel's dress. "No, pleez! Anything but zat!" he begged. "I swear, no more chasing ze crab! I'll go back to ze kitchen and stay zere! I'll lock myself in and eat ze key! Just don't tell...Carlotta!" Louis shuddered as though he were speaking the name of a terrifying monster. He rubbed his ears, remembering how sore they had been from the last time Carlotta had caught him chasing the red crab. He had been forced to leave his chef's hat off for a week.

"I promise not to tell," Ariel said with a sweet smile. She straightened the chef's hat and planted a quick affectionate peck on his forehead. "Now, off you go."

"At your leave, _ma reine_," the chef said, bowing so low that his hat almost fell off. He cast a sour glare at Sebastian before walking towards the kitchen, muttering something about devil women and crabs under his breath.

"Hmph," Sebastian scoffed at the chef's back. "I don't know why you keep dat looney around."

"Sebastian, he's a nice man," said Ariel as she smoothed out her dress. "He just has a few little...quirks."

The crustacean crawled up onto Ariel's head, hiding safely behind the tiara as he blended in with her hair. "You're telling me, mon. Quirks must be French for 'obsession with stuffed crabs.'"

Ariel stifled a laugh. "Come on. We're missing the party." The two headed out of the garden toward the beachside pavilion. "I hear his stuffed crab is actually very good. Maybe I'll try it one day."

"Dat's not funny, mon."

* * *

Things were definitely 'not funny, mon,' up in the White Iron Mountains. A savage blizzard had blown in, hitting the mountains like the wrath of a vengeful god. Winds blasted the peaks with the force of a hurricane, knocking down trees heavy with snow and loosing massive avalanches from the steep slopes. The pine forests and rocky crags sang like phantoms as the wind raced through them, producing a ghostly choir of moans and howls. The snow fell in a thick flurry, reducing visibility to less than ten feet in the sparse light before nightfall. The snowflakes flew like icy needles, forcing the inhabitants of the mountains to seek shelter wherever they could.

High up in the side of a rocky peak was a small cave. The traveler sat inside this cave around a small fire. The cloak was pulled tight around its body in a hopeful attempt to block out the cold. Ice had built up on the tips of its shemagh and goggles, and its cloak bore a line of frost around its hem. The fire was small but strong, casting flickering shadows over the granite cave walls and keeping the traveler somewhat warm. Paintings from ancient people seemed to come alive in the firelight. Men with spears chased bison and elk through trees, and wolves hunted herds of deer across the ancient walls. The howl of the wind blocked out all sounds except the crackle of the fire and the traveler's steady breathing.

The traveler had been afraid of this. Trading caravans between the western and eastern kingdoms always stuck to the southern edge of the Devil's Steppe because of its more temperate climate, easier terrain, and lack of enormous cannibalistic worms. The result was that almost nothing was known about the White Iron Mountains, much less how to get through them. The information the traveler had been able to gather amounted to 'they have snow,' 'they are tall,' 'they are cold,' and 'anyone who tries to go through there has a death wish.' The burning harshness of the Devil's Steppe almost seemed tame next to the freezing savagery the White Iron Mountains were displaying. The traveler had gotten to the mountains just as the red star died and its water supply was depleted. It had been nearly halfway up the first mountain when the storm hit. Within minutes it had gone from clear and calm to a complete whiteout, forcing the traveler to stop.

That was two days ago. The traveler had enough food for several days more, and it could melt snow for water, but there was no telling how long the storm would last for. If the cold did not get to the traveler first, hunger would finish the job. Hunger weakened the body and dulled the senses. It was too dangerous to risk traveling in the storm, but every day spent in the cave increased the danger of getting down the mountain at all. In a weakened state of starvation it would only take one wrong step on a ledge, one rogue gust of wind, or one hungry mountain bear with the element of surprise, and the mountain would become the traveler's grave. The traveler had no magical trinket or knowledge of any spell that would be able to guide it through this storm. Even using 'that' was out of the question.

The traveler reached into its shirt and pulled out a small glass orb the size of a grape. It hung from a braided leather cord tied around the traveler's neck. From a distance the orb appeared to be filled with yellow, orange, and red glass. Upon closer inspection the colored glass turned out to be a small fire. The fire burned steadily inside the orb as a swirling flame, but the glass was cool to the touch. The flame let out the faintest of glows, gently illuminating the traveler's covered face. A pang of nostalgia pulled at the traveler's heart as it watched the captive fire, though the goggles and shemagh hid any expression of the sentiment.

The traveler thought of returning to the eastern kingdoms. If the storm died out soon, and it could collect enough food for at least four days of rationing and fast travel, it could make it to the edge of the southern trade routes. From there it would be much easier to find food, water, and a safe path. Back there was familiarity, work, and comrades. Within ten days it could be back in the eastern lands.

The traveler shook the thought from its head. It was a naive delusion. There was no returning. Not ever. Not after what it had done. The only thing waiting back there was hatred, persecution, and most likely death. This journey westward was closer to banishment than anything else. The traveler's comrades had either turned their backs on it or risked their lives to get it out safely. The moment someone knew it had returned, it would be hunted down like a rabid wolf. Nowhere in the eastern kingdoms was safe anymore. It could still see the princess's face, tears streaking though cheeks stained with soot, eyes a mix of anger, hurt, and fear. Her words rang in the traveler's mind as clear as the day she said them.

'_You monster!_'

The sound of crunching snow pulled the traveler out of memory lane. It grabbed its sword and jumped to its feet. To the average human the wind was deafening. To the traveler, however, the faint sound of footsteps in fresh snow was barely audible over the tempest. The traveler pulled the sword out a few inches, the freshly cleaned blade reflecting the light of the fire.

_crunch... crunch... Crunch... Crunch... __Crunch..._

The footsteps were getting louder. The traveler relaxed itself like a coiled snake, ready to strike without warning.

"Who goes there?" called the traveler toward the cave entrance. "Reveal yourself. Are you friend or foe?"

The crunch of footsteps continued to grow. They sounded like they belonged to an individual, but with the cacophony of the wind there may as well have been an entire werewolf pack waiting outside. The traveler reached to take off its cloak, wanting full range of motion if it had to fight.

A pair of large glowing yellow eyes appeared out of the snowstorm, gleaming like twin drops of sunlight. The traveler forced itself to stay relaxed, every hair on its body standing up. That was definitely not a human. The traveler moved so that the fire was between itself and the cave entrance, wanting to be able to kick the embers into the creature's face if it charged.

"Back! I won't be your dinner!" shouted the traveler. It slid into a fighting stance, prepared to draw the sword with lethal speed.

The eyes grew bigger as the footsteps continued. A giant form began to appear out of the blizzard, the firelight revealing more as it approached. The traveler nearly dropped its sword as it recognized the visitor from the storm.

"No…freaking…way."

* * *

Back at the castle, two servants made their way down a stone hallway towards the pavilion. One was a brunette woman dressed in a more modest version of a maid's uniform. She grimaced as she fidgeted with her clothes, revealing unusually pointy teeth. The gold chain of a necklace was barely visible at the nape of her neck, the centerpiece of the jewelry hidden under her shirt. At her side was a man carrying a violin. He was dressed in a spotless black tuxedo and freshly shined leather shoes. His brown hair was slicked down, and his eyes were so dark they could be mistaken for black.

"Ugh, how do human females walk in these things?" complained the maid as she staggered down the hall, her heeled shoes making walking difficult.

"Control yourself, you bumbling simpleton," hissed the violinist. "We are trying to blend in. You'll get us caught with your wobbling around the castle like a newborn jellyfish."

"Oh, and dragging those two into the castle wasn't going to get us caught?" snapped the maid as she struggled to keep her balance while straightening her skirt. "We're lucky that no one saw us. You should have just killed them and stowed the bodies in the surf for later."

"Were you listening at all when I explained the rules of the spell? I keep this form only if the original stays alive. You may not need a body double, but you need the clothes to get in," said the violinist.

The maid touched the chain around her neck absentmindedly. "I don't see why I have to wear this thing. It would have been simpler just to make more potion."

"Deal with it," growled the violinist, becoming aggravated by the maid's incessant complaining. "It takes too long and there wasn't enough time. We'll be fine as long as you don't get recognized. Besides, no one expects to see a dead person at a party."

The maid raised her right leg and brought it down hard, snapping the heel off her shoe. She repeated the process with the other leg, picking up the broken heels and handing them to the violinist. The man took them and forced them through the sound holes of his violin. The removal of the heels immediately improved the maid's stability. "We could have taken a limb or two off her. There was no reason to keep her alive." The maid's stomach growled loudly. "I'm starving. Why couldn't I have just a taste? Her legs looked so tender and juicy..." Her voice trailed off as she started to drool profusely.

The violinist frowned at her. "You would have made a mess and drawn too much attention. We are here for the mission, not to fill our bellies with meat."

The two reached the end of the hallway. The oak door had been left open to allow the cool night air inside. The party was visible in the distance, the glow of candlelight and sounds of music wafting on the evening breeze. A woman with red hair in a blue ball gown was making her way towards the festivities. The violinist pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and threw it at the maid's face. "Now wipe off your chin and act human."

* * *

The party was already well underway when Ariel and Sebastian arrived. Human and merfolk alike danced and made light conversation throughout the pavilion, although there was no dancing between merfolk and humans for obvious reasons. Paper lanterns of various colors hung from the ceiling, casting their light into the sea glass canopy. Pink ribbons hung between the columns, the light sea breezes gently playing with the fabric and making the lanterns sway. A table lined with food of various tastes lined one side of the pavilion. Roast duck, glazed hams, scalloped potatoes, fresh salads, hot soups, and other dishes too numerous to name adorned the table. A special place remained clear in the center of the table for Melody's cake. Ariel was glad to see that Louis had carefully followed her instructions to not include any seafood on the menu lest he offend their undersea guests. Servers bustled around the pavilion with plates of appetizers and glasses of wine. An orchestra played light music from a raised stage at the other side of the pavilion, their mastery of their instruments evident in the music.

At the back of the pavilion was the ocean pool. It was filled with merpeople and a variety of sea life. Turtles, fish, seals, gulls, and even dolphins talked among themselves and with the merpeople. Ariel could see her sisters dispersed among the crowd, talking with humans and other sea folk or attempting to maintain some semblance of control with their own families. Eric stood at the closest edge of the pool dressed in is best white uniform. His medals shone brightly in the light of the candles and paper lanterns. At his side the gold of his sword hilt glinted, polished so fine that one could see their reflection in the metal. His hair was combed and his face clean-shaven. Grimsby stood close by, surveying the scene for anything that might require his attention.

At Eric's right was King Triton. The king had used the magic of the trident to move a small column of water with him wherever he went on the land, refusing to change into a human. He had tried it once after the wall went down and, after falling for what seemed like the hundredth time, decided that he preferred fins and trident magic to legs. The trident was giving off the familiar happy glow as it rested in his right hand. His crown and bracers were freshly polished, shining as brightly as his son-in-law's sword.

Ariel maneuvered through the crowd to Eric. He smiled when he noticed her, as though a small portion of his happiness had returned to him. "You look beautiful, Ariel."

Her cheeks turned slightly pink. Even after twenty years of marriage his compliments still made her heart flutter. "You're not so bad yourself," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek as she took his arm in hers.

Triton chuckled. "Quite the charmer, this one." He then noticed Sebastian nestled in Ariel's hair. "Sebastian? What on earth are you doing up there?"

"Hiding from dat madman of a chef, your majesty." Sebastian hopped down onto the skirt of Ariel's dress and slid to the floor before jumping into the pool. "At least dat mon can't swim very well."

"Speaking of swimming," said Ariel, "where are Urchin and Flounder? I was sure I told them about this weeks ago."

"Right here Ariel!" A familiar blue-striped yellow fish appeared at the edge of the pool.

Ariel leaned over the edge to greet her friend. "Flounder! I'm so glad you made it. Are the kids with you?"

Flounder shook his head. "The wife has them for tonight. You think one teenager is a handful? Try raising eighteen of them at the same time!"

Ariel laughed. She looked around the pool, searching for the familiar sandy blonde hair and beard of Urchin. He was nowhere to be seen. "Did Urchin come with you?"

"Right here, your majesty." Ariel nearly jumped into the pool at the sound of Urchin's voice. She spun around to see him standing behind her. Unlike King Triton, he had opted to learn how to walk properly. Within a year he had been able to run, jump, and even dance as well as any human. He now stood dressed in a blue suit and vest, his spear in hand and beard neatly trimmed. He stood a full head taller than her, making him and imposing figure to most.

"You came!" Ariel threw her arms around Urchin in a tight hug, causing the merman-turned-man to take a few steps back. He returned the hug with his free arm. "Easy, Ariel. I'm not as used to these things as you are."

Ariel laughed and let go. "Sorry. I'm so used to being on land that I forget how difficult it can be to walk when you spend your life swimming."

"Hah!" said Sebastian as he hopped onto Flounder's head. "You're one to talk about trouble walking, mon. Remember when you first got dose legs? I've seen kelp in a riptide dat was more stable than you." The crab did a comical mime of Ariel staggering around on land, causing the group to laugh loudly. Except for Ariel, that is. The word 'riptide' had brought back memories of five days ago.

Her visit to Atlantica had not been as fruitful as she had hoped. Her father had met her at the beach to transform her into a mermaid, and they had discussed Melody's sleep issues on the way to Atlantica.

"I am sorry, Ariel," Triton had apologized, "but dreams are something beyond the trident's control. I know of no king of Atlantica that has ever possessed the power to affect dreams. As much as I want to help her, there is nothing I can do."

To say Ariel was disappointed would be an understatement, but she knew that she could not blame her father. He had wielded the trident for well over sixty years now. No one under the ocean was more qualified to say what the trident could and could not do.

Things were no better when she came back home. Ariel had returned from Atlantica to find Melody sobbing in her room while Eric did his best to console her. It had taken a full five minutes to get her to calm down enough to explain what had happened. She remembered how red and puffy her eyes were, and the tremor in her voice as she recounted being chased out of the water by an unknown whale killer. It had been heartbreaking to see her daughter so distraught and defeated, her eyes lacking their usual spark of adventure. After Melody had cried all the tears she had, Ariel had borrowed her locket and gone straight back to Atlantica to tell her father. The merking had immediately sent out any troops he could spare to find the monster, assuring her they would not stop until it was found.

"Daddy, did you find out anything about what Melody saw?" asked Ariel.

The group's laughter quickly faded. Triton shook his head, a frown on his face. "We have been scouring the waters ever since you came to me, but we have not found anything except the whale. We gave the whale a decent burial, but there is no sign of whatever killed it anywhere. No scales, no reports, and no other victims."

Urchin nodded in agreement. "The only lead we have is the name and the tooth we recovered at the site. Any of the fish that have seen this monster are either too afraid to talk or missing. All they have told us is that they have never seen anything so big, vicious, or hungry."

Ariel gave a worried sigh. For something as large as Melody described to just disappear into the ocean was too strange. It was true that large creatures could hide in the ocean quite easily, but something of the size and appearance that Melody had described was hard to miss. Combining that with the rash of unusual incidents that had been happening this year, and Ariel was beginning to feel like she did when Morgana was still alive. She wanted to keep Melody safe more than anything, but she did not want to separate her from the sea and family that she loved so very much.

Triton saw the worried expression on his daughter's face. "Let us save this discussion for another time," he said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "This is a day for celebration, not for talk of monsters and mysteries. Melody would not want us to be so somber on her birthday."

Ariel sighed. "You're right, daddy. This isn't the time or place to be worrying about that. Speaking of which..." Ariel looked around the room for her daughter. "Where is Melody? I haven't seen her since this morning."

"She's over there," said Flounder, pointing to a group of young women, mermaids, and a familiar penguin and walrus on the other side of the pool. It took a moment, but Ariel could make out her daughter's jet-black hair amidst them. The group parted slightly, revealing Melody in her full birthday regalia. She wore a dress reminiscent of the one Ariel had worn for her first dinner on land, plus a few modifications of Melody's own design. She had tied a large pink ribbon around her waist and wore a sapphire necklace that sparkled in the light. A simple silver tiara topped her head. Ariel laughed inwardly as she remembered the heart attack Melody had given Eric when he showed it to her. She had won the "you-can't-wear-that-it's-too-revealing" argument by saying that it allowed her to breathe easier and did not make her hot. She seemed even more beautiful in it partly because of how elegant it made her look, partly because of the nostalgia it brought to Ariel, and mostly because of the smile on Melody's face.

Ariel felt a weight lift from her as she watched her daughter. For once in a long time, even if it was just for tonight, things were back to normal.

* * *

Down in the canyon at the bottom of the sea, the darkness of night had never left. The black depths devoured light, casting everything in shadow. It was the perfect place for those who did not wish to be found. Hence why the leader had chosen it.

The leader sat comfortably in the darkness. It preferred the dark to the light. Darkness hid the unknown, and people feared the unknown more than anything else. No one ever came this far out into the deep. Eyes were useless here. Not even the eyes of the master could find this palace-at least, that is what the leader hoped.

A large glowing sphere floated in the water before the leader. In the middle of the sphere the maid and violinist were visible as they entered the party unnoticed. The man made his way to the raised stage the orchestra was playing from and took a seat near the back, affording him the best view of the pavilion while remaining inconspicuous. The maid took a plate of appetizers from the dinner table and began making rounds through the guests. There was no sound, an unfortunate condition of the spell that the leader wished to remedy. It would be divine to hear the chaos that was about to unfold. If everything went according to the leader's plan, the subordinates were going to turn this party into a night that would never be forgotten.

* * *

Melody could not remember the last time she had felt so good. She had been blessed with nightmare-free sleep for almost a week now. The first night she had slept like a sea cucumber, waking up only when her mother came to get her for dinner. The circles under her eyes had disappeared. She felt more energetic and attentive than she had in weeks. She smiled more and laughed harder. She was happy for the first time in a long while.

So why did she have such a feeling of unease? The party was proceeding without the faintest snag. All of her friends were enjoying themselves as much as she was. The food was wonderful. The music was lovely. A certain prince was somewhere in the party. And her family was here to celebrate it with her. Yet she had the unshakeable feeling that something was wrong, like an itch that would go away if she could just stop scratching it.

The sound of light applause for the orchestra brought Melody out of her thoughts. She quickly clapped for the musicians, not wanting to appear rude. The musicians bowed politely, enjoying the audible appreciation from the crowd before sitting down to prepare for another song.

"Princess." Melody jumped at the voice. She knew it very well, and it always made her heart beat a little bit faster.

Prince William made his way to her through the crowd. He was an attractive young man barely a year older than her. He had a pleasant face that had made many a young girl swoon, and Melody was no exception. He had inherited his father's piercing blue eyes, but on him they were entrancing instead of intimidating. His light brown hair was pulled back with a dark blue ribbon. He wore a jacket of the same color with silver trim over a white jerkin and matching color pants.

Melody had known William for seven years now. Their first dance had been a bit of a disaster to say the least. He had ended up getting his finger pinched by Sebastian and covered in cake when the crab went into a nosedive after he tossed him. One of the first things Melody had done after the wall went down was send a long apology letter to him. Thus had started a friendship that had quickly developed into the start of something more. William was not like his father. He was kind, selfless, charismatic, honorable, and strongly believed in the principle of a king existing to serve his people instead of the other way round. He was a true gentleman in all ways. He had a somewhat tense relationship with his father due to their contrasting viewpoints and William's promises of change when he took the throne. He was well liked by everyone, including Ariel and Eric, and more than well liked by Melody. She always felt safe and happy around him. She wanted to tell him her true feelings, but she was afraid to do so. Then again, what teenager was not afraid to confess their feelings to someone they felt such sentiments for?

"May I have the privilege of dancing with the birthday girl?" he asked, flashing her a gleaming smile as he gave an obviously overdone bow.

"You may, my good sir," she said, bowing in an appropriately overdone curtsy to match William's own formality. She allowed William to take her hand and lead her onto the dance floor. She looked back to her friends. Several of them gave her thumbs up with large grins. Tip and Dash high-flippered each other before doing the same. Melody gave them a smile and a knowing wink before turning back. The crowd moved to make space for them, eager to watch the enamored prince and princess dance.

* * *

From his place in the orchestra the violinist watched the teens move to the middle of the now vacated pavilion. The crowd had cleared a wide area for them, providing the birthday girl and her partner ample room to dance in.

The violinist looked to the maid. She was at the edge of the pool serving an appetizer of some sort to a group of mermaids. The maid caught the violinist's gaze. He motioned with his head to the other side of the room. The maid nodded and moved around the outside of the crowd, looking for a place where the audience was at its thinnest.

The maestro tapped the podium, indicating they were about to start. The violinist readied his instrument. He could have played it like a banjo and it would not have mattered. The instrument had been enchanted to produce no noise. All the violinist had to do was vaguely mimic the other musicians and it would go unnoticed. It was what the violin held inside that was important. If it worked the way the leader had told them, and they stuck to the plan, then it was nearly impossible for them to fail. Best of all, they would create just the sort of mess that their leader wanted.

The violinist grinned evilly. Everything was falling into place.

* * *

Ariel watched the two teens prepare to dance, William's left hand gently taking Melody's. She felt Eric stiffen slightly as William brought his right hand to rest on Melody's waist. "Down boy," she whispered teasingly.

Eric sighed. "Sorry," he whispered back. He gave Ariel's hand and affectionate squeeze. "Can you believe that she's all grown up now? It seems like yesterday we were rocking her to sleep in the crib while you sang."

Ariel leaned her head against Eric's shoulder. "Remember when we used to tell her bedtime stories at night? We must have told her ours a thousand times."

"She never got tired of hearing it," said Eric. He pressed a finger to his lips as the orchestra started to play and Melody and William began to dance.

A movement from the onlookers caught Ariel's attention. For just a moment she thought she saw a familiar face. She gave the crowd a quick scan, and then turned her attention back to her daughter. Probably a case of mistaken identity.

* * *

Back in the castle, a crowd of the a unusual sort had gathered. A small flock of gulls, terns, and pelicans had gathered around the chimney to the kitchen. A variety of delicious odors had drawn the birds in from all over the coast. The birds flew in circles or danced around the brick structure as they tried to figure out how to infiltrate the kitchen.

"Zat's it!" came a holler from the chimney, scaring the birds away.

Down in the kitchen, Louis stood back to survey his masterpiece of a birthday cake. He had completely forgotten about the red crab he had been pursuing earlier. Nineteen candles arranged in an "M" adorned the top of a quadruple decked cake. The pale blue frosting was adorned with candy seashells of a full spectrum of colors. Designs of various sea creatures and merfolk adorned the sides of the cake, creating the illusion that they were swimming in circles around it. The frosting on the edges had been meticulously hand-sculpted into the form of waves.

Louis wiped a tear from his eye. "So beau'iful! I almost wish zat it weren't going to be eaten." He contemplated hiding it away, but then thought better of it. He had put in a solid week of work into designing, preparing, baking, and constructing the cake in such a way that it was as fresh and beautiful as possible. Much better that it be enjoyed than left to rot in his kitchen.

"Now I just need ze matches," chimed Louis as he fished in his pockets for his matchbox. He slid open the tiny tin box to see a single match remaining. "Voila! I am in luck tonight!" He took the match and struck it, the tip bursting into a small orange orb of light. He leaned in to light the candles. The tiny flame was just shy of lighting the first one when-.

"Louis!"

The chef jumped at Carlotta's voice. The match sailed through the air and into the sink, going out with a hiss and a puff of smoke.

"Carlotta! Ze match! You put out ze last match!"

The hefty maid marched over to Louis. "Never mind your matches. Is the cake ready yet? They will start singing once this dance is over."

"Zat is what I vas doing until you interrupted. I will have ze cake ready and on its way out in two minutes if you let me get ze candles lit." Louis shook the matchbox, wishing for the sound of wood bouncing around in the box.

"For goodness sake, Louis, just use a candle!"

"Use a candle? And risk dripping ze wax all over ze princess's cake? No, _mon cheri_, I will not have it!"

"Then use a stick from the oven."

"And get ash all over zee beau'iful frosting?" Louis puffed up his chest. "I am a master chef, dear Carlotta, not some blacksmith! I will not have a zingle speck of ash on my creation or on ze princess's birthday!"

Carlotta sighed. "Fine, fine. Just get it lit. But be quick. We probably have five minutes at best until they start singing!" Carlotta darted through the door with surprising speed. "Oh, I better make sure we brought enough plates!"

Louis riffled through his pants. "A candle to light zis cake?" he muttered to himself. "It eez not a candelabra-it eez a cake. You don't like it when wax drips on your carpet. What makes you zink you'd like wax on your food?" Unable to find a match in his pocket, Louis headed toward the pantry door, hoping there was a fresh box there. The pantry door was cracked open slightly.

"Zat's odd," mumbled the chef as he opened the door, "I thought I closed ze door ven I-."

Louis froze. A human foot appeared in the light. The chef howled and drew his meat cleaver from his belt. "Ruffians! Vandals! How dare you desecrate _mon_ kitch-!?"

The door opened more. Louis had expected to find a pair of drunken guards that had fallen asleep after drinking too much wine, or perhaps one of his staff taking a nap. Instead, he found an unconscious woman lying on the stone floor. Her hands were bound behind her back and her feet were tied together. A gag had been tied tight across her mouth. She was missing all of her clothes save her undergarments. A line of blood ran from a large wound on her forehead down to her jaw. Her brown hair was wet and matted over her face.

"_Mon dieu_! Vat eez zis?!" Louis dropped the cleaver to the floor and rushed to her, the matches forgotten. Louis fumbled with the rope binding her hands, and then set to freeing her legs. The woman groaned and began to stir.

"Louis, where is that cake?" came Carlotta's voice, her footsteps hurried and sharp.

"Carlotta! In 'ere!" called the chef.

"Louis, why aren't you wheeling out that cake right this minute?" said Carlotta as she rounded the corner to the pantry door.

"Ne'er mind ze blasted cake! 'Elp me with 'er!" Louis shouted as he released the rag gagging the woman's mouth. Blood stained the corners of her mouth where the gag had cut into her skin. Carlotta stood in stunned silence for a moment before rushing over to help Louis lift the woman. The former adversaries supported the woman between them and led her over to a wooden chair. They set her down as though she was made of glass, not wanting to aggravate her injury further. The woman groaned again and rolled her head. Carlotta rushed over to a water basin and wetted a rag from her apron. "Louis, hold this to her head," she said, tossing the towel to the chef. Louis snatched it and gently pressed the rag to the woman's head. She flinched at the touch, reaching blindly to swat Louis' arms.

"Easy there, miss," said Carlotta, "You're safe now." Carlotta grabbed a candle and rushed back to the pantry to find some strong spirits to clean out the woman's head wound.

"What eez your name?" asked Louis.

"Ra...chel..." whispered the woman. "Where...am I?"

"You're in ze kitchen, Rachel," said Louis, now using another rag to wipe away the blood on her face. "Do you remember vat happened?"

"We were at...the beach...taking lunch," said Rachel slowly. "He was... telling me...about... his home, when..." Rachel sat bolt upright. "Martin! Is he-?" The stunned woman suddenly clutched her forehead as a headache like a nail through a board rocked her skull. She sunk back into the chair, moaning in pain.

"Who eez Martin?" asked Louis.

"Louis! Come here, quickly!" Louis looked up to see Carlotta beckoning to him from the pantry door. Taking the stunned woman's hand and pressing it to the rag on her head, Louis went to Carlotta. "What eez it?"

Carlotta stepped to the side. Louis had expected several things to be there. Potato sacks, cheese rolls, flagons of wine, or even the princess eating her favorite sweets. He had never expected to find a brown haired young man with his hands bound, a wound on his head, and a large ring of lacerations in his left thigh.

"What in ze world?!" shouted Louis in surprise. The man groaned and tried to get up but only succeeded in rolling onto his back. Louis and Carlotta were at his side in seconds, freeing his hands before setting him against a large sack of wheat.

"What...happened?" asked the man as he came back to consciousness.

"You're in the kitchen of Queen Ariel and King Eric's castle," said Carlotta as she wiped the blood from the man's head. "Are you Martin?"

The man nodded. "Rachel...is she alright?"

"She 'as a concuzion I zink, but she eez all right," answered Louis. "Do you remember how you got 'ere?"

"Rachel and I were taking lunch at the beach," said Martin. "I was talking about taking her to a festival back in my hometown when we were hit from behind by..." His voice trailed off as the memory came back to him. "The party!" he shouted, causing Louis to jump so violently that his hat fell off. "We have to warn them! She's in danger!"

"Vat are you talking about?" asked Louis.

"Princess Melody! They're going after the princess!"

* * *

The maid watched impatiently from the sidelines as Melody and William danced across the floor. The tray of appetizers was gone now, tossed over the side of the pavilion. No one had noticed the harsh clanging of metal on stone as the platter struck the rocks. All eyes were on the prince and princess- human, merfolk, and sea dweller alike. The two entranced them as they twirled and floated across the dance floor in time to the music.

The maid moved into position. The crowd was ten deep in front of her, but it was also the thinnest in the pavilion. It would take some effort to work her way through, but it would be possible. The maid resisted the urge to nab someone from the back of the crowd and drag them down to the beach for a snack. She loved how tender humans were.

A quick glance to the violinist caught him staring at her. He said nothing, but his eyes relayed the message just as clearly.

'Hold there. If I fail to get them, you rush in and finish the job.'

The maid trembled with impatience and hunger. She wanted to act now! Why were they waiting when their target was right in front of them? They were practically offering themselves up on a silver platter with their hands bound and an apple in their mouths. A bit of jostling through the crowd and she would be able to take down the princess herself.

The maid clenched her teeth and waited. Her patience was wearing thin.

* * *

Melody and William settled into a steady rhythm with the music. Their movements were flawlessly synchronous, as though each knew what the other would do before they did. The feel of his hand on her waist sent tingles of excitement up her spine. She could not keep from smiling as she looked into his eyes. Why was it that when everything seemed to be in chaos, his presence made her feel so at ease?

"Melody," said William, not breaking his rhythm for a moment. "I want to apologize to you."

"Apologize? About what?" asked Melody. "If you mean about you stepping on my foot earlier then don't. I've probably stepped on yours more than I can count."

William smiled. "No, not that. I heard about what my father said when he visited."

Melody nearly lost the rhythm of the dance. Why did he have to bring that up now of all times? "Oh...uh...it's nothing. Don't worry about it." She felt her cheeks turn red with embarrassment.

"Still," said William as he guided her through a graceful spin, "I feel bad about it."

"Why? It's not as if you did anything wrong."

"True, but I feel embarrassed that he said it at all. My dad is very old fashioned about things like marriage. He has been pressuring me to marry ever since I turned seventeen. He wants me to marry a princess from a well-off kingdom so he can improve the status of our own. Needless to say I don't want to marry any of the girls he invited to meet me."

"Is there anyone you would want to marry?" asked Melody. She had to stop herself from slapping her hand across her mouth. Why, oh why had she said that?

"Perhaps," said William. "I'm not the type to marry for politics. If I am going to marry, I'd rather it be with someone I love than someone my father chooses for me." His gaze never left her eyes as he spoke.

"I know what you mean," said Melody. An uneasy silence built between the two of them. Melody heard a small voice telling her 'go for it.' Her heart was pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath and said, "Is there...anyone you love?"

Their dancing slowed down a bit, both teenagers focusing more on each other and less on the dance. "As a matter of fact, there is," said William.

"What's she like?" Melody's heart felt like it was about to burst through her chest. She was hanging onto each of his words now. William was doing the same.

"She is smart, ambitious, sassy, and has a thirst for adventure," said William, his face moving closer to hers. "She is kind to everyone and knows how to stand up for herself. She loves the ocean as much as she lover her family. Her laugh is like the warmth of the sun. She sings more beautifully than the most musical of nightingales."

"What does she look like?" asked Melody, unconsciously moving closer to him as well.

"Her looks are not nearly as important to me as her character, but she is just as beautiful on the outside as she is on the inside. She has the smile of an angel. Her hair is as dark as the sky on a moonless night, and her eyes are like the stars reflecting on the surface of the ocean."

Melody leaned in slightly. "She sounds like a very special girl to you," whispered Melody. "Does she know that you love her?"

"I think she does," answered William. "I hope she feels the same way."

Melody looked deep into William's eyes. She saw such sincerity and tenderness there. Her heart felt like she was melting, any trace of anxiety now lost in the moment. Just before the space between their lips disappeared she whispered, "I'm certain she does."

* * *

Ariel watched her daughter and the handsome prince waltz across the pavilion floor. She did not know what they were talking about, but whatever it was Melody was certainly happy about it. She wore the biggest smile Ariel had seen in weeks. It was a relief to her heart to see Melody happy again. Watching them made her remember her first dance with Eric. She had no voice back then, but she had tried to convey her feelings through their synchronous movement better than any words could have. Melody appeared to be doing the same. She was light and free on her feet, never looking away from the prince's smiling face.

'_Ah, young love_,' she thought to herself as she saw the two share their first kiss. A collective 'aw' and a few whistles from the crowd caused the teens to blush bright red and giggle as they continued dancing.

As the two newfound lovers passed by another patch of the crowd, someone caught Ariel's eye. It was a maid with long brunette hair. She had deep blue eyes like the depths of the open ocean and rosy pink lips. She had an unusually intense expression on her face. Something was familiar about her. Ariel was sure that she had seen the woman somewhere before. The memory tickled at the back of her mind, waiting for the correct thought to pull it out of the past.

"Grimsby," Ariel asked, gently pulling his sleeve, "who is that maid in the crowd? About twenty feet to the left Melody. She looks familiar."

It took Grimsby a moment to find her, but once he did he was surprised he had missed her the first time. "I'm not sure, your majesty. There is something familiar about her though...yes, I have definitely seen her befo-." Grimsby's voice caught in his throat as the memory came back to him.

It had been foggy the night before. Ariel had been with them for two days. He had left Eric on his balcony before turning in for the night. The next morning he had come down to breakfast with a strange woman on his arm. That was the first time he had seen her. The last time had been when she transformed into a half-human half-octopus monstrosity and dragged Ariel over the side of a wedding ship.

"Dear lord... it's Vanessa!"

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure?" said the guard captain as he marched his soldiers to the party. His armor was hastily put on but secure. Other soldiers were putting on their armor as they marched in file behind him.

"_Oui, capitaine_," said Louis. He made quite a picture in his chef's outfit with a chipped meat cleaver and kitchen knives stuck through his belt, jogging alongside professionally trained soldiers dressed for combat. "You zink I would make zis up as a joke? Or zat ze two people in my kitchen just tied zemselves up and bashed zeir own heads?"

The captain cursed to himself. As odd as the French chef was, he had known Louis long enough to know he was not one to joke about something like this. "Men, double time! Now!" The soldiers broke into a fast jog, their armor clanking louder than before. Their spear tips danced in the moonlight like a hundred silver leaves.

Louis looked ahead of the troop. He could see Melody dancing with Prince William on the pavilion floor. Everyone was enraptured by their dance. So it was no surprise that they failed to notice the maid who was supposed to be dead staring at the teens. Or that one of the violinists was playing out of sync with the rest of the orchestra because he was fixated on the princess.

A cold chill ran through Louis. He broke into a full run. "_Princesse_! Look out!"

* * *

The maid did not hear the warning cry from behind her. Nor did anyone else for that matter. Melody and William were passing by her again. In a couple seconds they would be less than eight paces from the edge of the crowd. She could almost make out the needlework on the princess's dress.

'_Screw the plan!_' thought the maid. '_I've had enough of this!_' She started to weave her way through the crowd.

* * *

The violinist swore. Someone must have had found their victims and tipped off the guards. Their chances of escaping had just become much smaller. He turned his attention back to his partner, who was now working her way through the crowd. That stupid fool! She was supposed to be the contingency plan. Everything would be ruined if she went after them now. The maid showed no sign of waiting, roughly moving past a pair of guests.

It was now or never. The violinist stopped playing and pried at the edges of his violin. The entire top of the soundboard and fingerboard came free with a crack, revealing the weapon it concealed.

* * *

'_Impossible_!' thought Ariel as she watched Vanessa start to move towards Melody and William. Her eyes held a malicious intent that would make a shark turn tail. The dancing teens were heading right in her direction.

Ariel broke into a run, desperate to reach her daughter in time. A movement from the orchestra caught her eye. One of the violinists stood up and pointed something at Melody. It looked like a pair of metal tubes with a wooden handle at one end. The man's finger was wrapped around something underneath it. Ariel had no idea what it was, but the fact that he was pointing it at her daughter made her run even faster.

* * *

Melody was completely oblivious to all around her. She did not hear Louis' warning, her mother's panicked footsteps, the clanking of the guard's armor, the sounds of a startled guest being pushed roughly aside, or the violin being pulled apart. All she was aware of was her heartbeat, the smile on William's face as they looked into each other's eyes, and the feel of his hands as he guided her across the dance floor. The butterflies in her stomach had stopped long ago. She was in her own safe, wonderful world with only herself and her dream prince. It was like something out of a fairy tale. Her heart was full of joy. She had never felt so strongly for him before, but now there was no doubt in her mind. She was in love.

'_Run_.'

Melody nearly tripped on her own feet. Not now! Why did she have to hear the voice now of all times, when she was dancing with the man she loved? Everything was so perfect right now and she did not want it to end.

'_No_,' she said to the voice.

"Are you alright?" asked William, noticing the fumble in Melody's step and the irritated expression on her face.

"I'm fine," Melody said. "Just a twinge in my knee."

'_Run now!_' the voice ordered, now harder and louder than before. '_Your lives are in danger!_'

'_Shut up!_' thought Melody as she kept dancing. '_I won't let you ruin this for me!_'

The voice growled loudly. '_RUN!_'

'_No!'_

William suddenly stopped, his eyes focused on something just to the side of her. "What the-?"

'_Do it now!_'

"NO!" Melody shouted out loud.

'_YOU IMBECILIC BRAT!_' A thundering roar filled Melody's head, like the sound of a hundred lightning bolts cracking around the pavilion while a cannon squad fired in sync. It felt like her head was going to break apart. Her hands shot up to her ears in a desperate but futile attempt to block out the noise. At the same time something pushed her aside, throwing her to the floor.

_BANG!_

The din in her head ceased as quickly as it had started. She looked up to see William standing where he had stopped. He was motionless, staring at the orchestra. His face was a mix of shock, pain, and confusion.

Then everything went mad.

"Death to the princess!" came a cry from the crowd.

Screams filled the courtyard as people scattered. The merfolk and sea dwellers dived into the pool for the safety of the ocean. The human guests ran in every direction, desperate to escape the pavilion. The human guards fought to get through the crowd, the flood of panicked people holding them back like a river. Eric was running towards Melody with sword drawn, fighting his way through the fleeing people to his daughter. "Melody, look out!"

William fell onto his back. Melody could now see a hole the size of her thumb in his jacket. A dark stain was spreading out from it. She scrambled over to him, taking his face in her palms. He clutched at her dress as though trying to resist the inescapable grasp of death.

"No! Stay with me, Will! Just hang on! You have to hold on! Grandpa, help!"

She looked into William's face. It was turning an unnatural pallor. His terrified eyes were already clouding over with the fog of death. He looked like a frightened child. "Melo...dy." he whispered. "I..." Then his eyes closed and his head fell to the side, his last breath escaping him with a heavy sigh.

Melody was frozen. The pavilion had disappeared. The people had disappeared. The maid rushing at her with outstretched arms had disappeared. She only saw the prince she loved so much lying on the ground, the white of his jerkin now turning red. Moments ago they had been dancing across the floor, lost in their own little dream world as they confessed their feelings for each other. Now she watched as his life left him.

'_He's not dead! He can't be! He can't die!_' she reasoned to herself, her sanity starting to slip. '_This isn't be real. It's a dream...yes, that's it, I'm dreaming! This is another nightmare! Any moment now I'll wake up in my bed and everything will be fine!_"

A cold hand grabbed Melody by the neck and shoved her to the floor. Her head hit the stones hard, sending flashes of painful color across her vision. A brown haired maid sat on top of her, both hands around her throat. The maid's blue eyes held a savageness that was not human. She grinned madly, revealing a mouth filled with sharp triangular teeth. Shark's teeth.

"Time to die, daughter of the sea and shore!"

* * *

**AN: Dun dun! Things are picking up speed. Consider this my apology for taking so long with the last chapter: #4 is up more than a week early! Amazing what you can accomplish with coffee and a good dose of inspiration. **

**As always, your comments/thoughts/questions are welcome and constructive criticism is appreciated. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Mermaid or any of its characters. Everything else, however, is mine.**


	5. Chapter 5: The Ghost in the Shell

Chapter 5: The Ghost in the Shell

Louis surveyed the scene from behind one of the pavilion's many columns. People were running about in a mad flood of panic and terror. Some of the braver human guests had jumped into the ocean. The ocean pool was empty save for two dozen merguards, while at least a dozen more in the sea were directing willing merfolk and sea life to help the humans that had decided to risk the water. Melody and Vanessa were barely visible through the mob, the maid's hands clenched around the princess' throat. Melody did nothing to fight back in her state of shock.

Meanwhile, the fleeing crowd was preventing anyone from reaching them. Eric and Ariel were barely twenty feet away, fighting against the waves of people that were holding them back. Triton had tried to elevate himself above the crowd with his water column for a clear shot, but people kept colliding with or running through the water, jostling him about like a buoy in a storm. Grimsby was trying to direct people out of the pavilion as best he could. The human guards were still moving through the waves of panicked guests that were retreating up to the castle, while their merfolk counterparts could only watch helplessly. Melody would be dead before any of them got to her.

'_What can we do?_' thought the chef, frantically scanning for anything and anyone that could save Melody.

One of the knives in Louis' belt pricked him through his pants, causing him to look down. He was about to move the ill-placed pointy object when he noticed the base of the column he was standing behind. The stone structure was smooth throughout the majority of its height, but there was a narrow lip at knee level where the body of the column became its base. His hands brushed the handles of his knives as an idea formed in his mind. With enough of a purchase and a well-timed leap, he just might be able to get above the crowd.

Louis was in motion before he knew what he was doing. He drew a kitchen knife in each hand as he stepped onto the lip and pushed with as much force as he could. He launched above the crowd, hanging in midair for a long moment. Melody and Vanessa were clearly visible now, victim and attacker alone in a small ring of floor space as everyone else rushed away from them. Vanessa's inhuman mouth was going for the stunned princess' throat.

For twenty years Louis had been throwing knives at a certain red crab, and for twenty years he had missed every time. There was no crab tonight, but there was never a more important time for Louis to end his bad luck streak. Summoning every ounce of skill he could muster, Louis threw his knives at the imposter, praying that for just once his aim was true.

* * *

Vanessa leaned down towards Melody's neck, her mouth of shark-like teeth opened unnaturally wide. Melody did nothing to stop her attacker. Shock and fear had frozen her limbs, her mind not able to fully comprehend what was happening. Another part of her did not want to fight back. What was the point in resisting? She would wake up any moment now and this would all go away. Better to get it over with so she could end this nightmare.

_Crack! Crack! _The maid was jerked violently out sight. Melody was sure she was in a dream now. How else could the maid disappear like that? The answer to her question became evident as she rolled onto her side. The maid had not disappeared. She had been thrown off of her. She lay staring at the sky with dead eyes, the handles of Louis' knives protruding from her ribcage and the side of her head.

Melody looked around. The world was hushed, as though the volume on everything had been turned down. Guests were stampeding out of the pavilion while the guards fought their way in. The orchestra was jumping into the sea, save for a man who was crouched down behind a chair as he fussed with something. Triton was shouting orders to the merguards from a column of seawater as merfolk and other sea life worked to rescue humans from the ocean. She thought she saw a familiar walrus and penguin helping an unusually large man to shore. She heard familiar footsteps racing towards her. She touched the back of her head and felt something warm. When she brought her hand back there was blood on her fingertips. She was suddenly aware of the heavy and throbbing pain in her head where she hit the cold stone floor. This was not a dream. This was real. Oh god, it was real!

The faces of her mother and father filled her vision. Tears were streaming down her mother's face as she grasped her shoulders, and her father was reaching down to cradle her head. Their lips moved as they spoke, but their voices were so quiet she could not make out what they were saying. Why was everything so quiet? And why was it getting dark? Shadows crept into the sides of her vision until her world went black, the trauma to her head dragging her out of one nightmare and into another.

* * *

The violinist cursed his dead partner. Just a few seconds more and the princess would have been in the perfect position for him to kill her. He needed a clear line of sight for the weapon to work, and the cleared dance floor had been as close to perfect as possible. But the rookie's hatred of their target had blinded him to the plan. Those few seconds had made all the difference. The violinist had one more shot, but the king and queen completely obstructed his view of the princess as he tried to ready the weapon for the second shot. His chance to kill her was gone. The mission had failed.

The violinist now looked for an escape route. Armored guards had blocked the stairway down to the pavilion, the last of the guests now behind them and fleeing quickly. The castle would be on full alert within minutes. Even if he got by them, there were countless more on the other side. Merguards floated at the edge of the pool and the seaward edge of the pavilion, swords at the ready as they watched the crowd. Merfolk and other sea life were now heading for the safety of the ocean depths. He would never be able to slip out past the merguards now that they knew his face, let alone get past them alive.

"There he is! Don't let him escape!" shouted Triton. The violinist saw the merking pointing straight at him. The human guards closed in like a pride of lions on a gazelle. The violinist snarled like a beast in a trap, for trapped he was. He would not be escaping this place. He looked to Eric and Ariel kneeling over their unconscious daughter. The queen's back was turned to him, her attention fixed on her traumatized daughter. His line of sight was completely clear. The assassin trained his weapon on her. If he could not kill the princess then he would at least take her mother!

* * *

Triton saw where the violinist was aiming. He had no idea what the weapon was or how it worked, but he knew that it could kill at range and it was directed at Ariel. That was enough reason for using lethal force. He leveled the trident at the assassin's head, his aim trained by decades of experience. The violinist froze when he saw the legendary weapon being pointed directly at him.

"Trident, shoot!" ordered Triton, his voice carrying above the din. The trident glowed yellow and shot a bolt of white lightning straight at the guard.

_Crackle! Zrrck! _The bolt exploded as it collided with a barrier around the violinist. A shimmering transparent sphere was visible around the assassin as the trident's electricity raced around the barrier, looking for a way in to its target. Finding no feasible entry through the barrier the bolt died out with a loud pop. The barrier quickly faded until it was invisible once more.

Everyone stared in dumbfounded amazement. Their split second of confusion was all the time the violinist needed. He pointed his weapon at Ariel again.

"Shoot!" shouted Triton, willing the weapon to fire at his command. The trident fired again with the same result. The bolt hit the invisible barrier, danced around it for a moment, and then faded out. The violinist wrapped his finger around the metal firing mechanism of the weapon.

"SHOOT!" roared Triton. The trident fired an even larger bolt, but the king's panic affected his aim. The shot went high, striking part of the pavilion canopy. There was a deafening crash as the stone exploded, sending glass, rock and dust tumbling down, missing the stage by mere inches. The assassin shielded itself from the dust and debris as bits of stone pelted it, but it quickly recovered and aimed at Ariel again. He started to apply pressure to the firing mechanism. Just a bit more and-.

_Glurch! BANG!_

Urchin's aim was as flawless as his hunch. The barrier may have protected against the Trident's blasts, but it did nothing against the debris from the trident blast or his spear. The violinist screamed in agony, clutching the spear that was now embedded in his shoulder as he fell off the stage. His aim went high. Something small and fast smashed through the glass canopy, sending down a cloud of broken glass. The strange weapon fell to the ground and broke with a clatter, the wooden handle coming free of the metal tubes. Before the assassin could wrench the spear free the guards were on him, pinning him to the floor by his limbs.

"Bring him here!" ordered Triton. The guards hauled the violinist to his feet with all the tenderness of a grizzly bear. One grabbed the spear and wrenched it out, drawing a pained grunt from the violinist. Another grabbed the pieces of the assassin's weapon. The guards nearly dragged him over to Triton as he kicked and flailed.

"As you ordered, your majesty," said one of the guards. They threw the man unceremoniously before Triton and then stepped back, ready to pounce if needed. Eric left Ariel with Melody and joined Triton, his knuckles turning white as he clutched his sword. Other guards went to the edge of the pavilion, keeping their eyes peeled lest another assassin appear.

"Who are you?" demanded Eric, thrusting the tip of his sword under the man's chin. "What is the meaning of this outrage?"

The man glared at Eric with pure hatred in his pitch black eyes. "Filthy human! Son of fish eaters! May the currents drag you to the deep and the hagfish feast on your half-breed daughter's bones!"

"Silence!" Triton brought down the butt of the trident on the man's wound. He grunted in pain but gave no cry. Triton held the violinist's glare. He knew those eyes, but not from any human. He glanced over at the dead maid, noticing her shark-like teeth inside the unusually large mouth. "Those eyes... your partner's teeth...you and your compatriot are not from the human world, are you?"

The violinist said nothing. "Answer me, assassin. Reveal your true form to me, or I will force it out of you!"

The violinist remained silent. "So be it!" Triton pointed the trident at the man's chest. The trident's glow changed to a brilliant yellow. A bolt of light leapt from the end of the trident and struck the barrier, sending sparks across the ground. The trident's bolt and the assassin's barrier seemed equal in strength as the bolt tried to break through the protective enchantment. Then the barrier suddenly gave way like a balloon stuck with a needle. The bolt struck the violinist in the chest, coating him with a golden aura.

Instantly the violinist began to change. His nose elongated and widened. His skin became a dark gray color as his eyes turned a pinkish red. His legs fused together into a tail as his feet twisted into a vertical fin. A triangular dorsal fin grew from his back, piercing the black jacket he wore. He grew larger, the clothes he was wearing ripping under the pressure as his body expanded. His lips disappeared as his teeth turned into razor sharp points. Seconds later the transformation was over and the golden aura vanished. A creature reminiscent of a cross between a merman and a shark lay on the ground for all to see, surrounded by the remnants of his stolen clothes.

"A sharkanian," whispered Ariel in surprise. She had not seen one since her days as a teen. If Eric, Triton, Urchin, or any of the guards were surprised by this revelation, they did not show it.

"You would dare to attack my family!? This more than a violation of our treaty, sharkanian! It's a declaration of war!" yelled Triton, veins bulging on his forearm as he gripped the trident.

The sharkanian snarled. "Damn your treaty, and your entire kingdom as well! We will not obey the decrees of a disgusting land-loving fish man."

"Shut up!" shouted Eric, jabbing his sword dangerously close to the sharkanian's jugular. The tip of the blade shook with anger. "You sneak into my home. You kill the son of my ally in cold blood. You attack my daughter and then my wife. You will pay dearly for this, but not before I have answers. Tell me who sent you, while I can still stay my hand."

The sharkanian laughed. "I'll never tell. I do not fear a pathetic human and his oversized knife."

Triton brushed Eric's sword aside with his hand. "Then how about a merman and his oversized fork?" The merking pointed the trident at the shark man's chest. Torture was not something Triton advocated or allowed, but he was beyond caring at this point. He wanted answers and he wanted them now. A blue bolt of lightning shot out and struck the sharkanian. He howled in agony as electricity coursed through his body. The blinding pain continued until Triton removed the trident. The sharkanian curled up into a ball, the pain still coursing through his body as strands of blue electricity danced across his skin.

"You have no magic to protect you now. Speak, or I will not be so merciful the next time!" said Triton, the tip of the trident menacingly close to the sharkanian's head. Blue lightning bristled at the tips of the golden forks.

"No!" the sharkanian pleaded. "No more! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

Triton pointed his weapon at the shark man's neck. "Where are your people now? Who gave you that spell? Who orchestrated this attack?"

"We had help. The spells were given to us by-." The sharkanian's voice suddenly caught in his throat.

"Answer him, shark!" said Eric "I have no more patience for your defiance!"

The sharkanian moved his mouth as though speaking, but no voice came forth.

"Speak!" ordered Triton, leveling the trident at the sharkanian's head.

Suddenly the sharkanian clutched his throat, a choked gargle escaping his mouth. Ice crystals began to spread insidiously across his skin. The sharkanian thrashed wildly on the floor, mouth open in a silent scream of pain. The ice continued to spread, now working its way over his stomach and up to his face. The sharkanian clawed at his skin, desperately trying to remove the ice. It was a useless effort. Within moments the ice had completely covered his head.

Triton and the guards backpedalled away from the sharkanian. Ariel looked up from her daughter to the dead maid. Black sinuous marks were spreading over her skin like ink over a page. Ariel gave a startled cry and backed away from the cursed corpse, pulling Melody by her arms. Seconds later the maid's body had been consumed by the black. She now looked like an obsidian statue more than a once living being.

The guard who was holding the weapon pieces yelped as the weapon became glowing-red hot. He dropped them to the floor, rushing to the pool to cool his burnt hands. The handle quickly burst into flames, becoming little more than a pile of ash within seconds. The tube glowed orange and began to lose its shape. Moments later the weapon was little more than a pile of black ash and a puddle of scorching liquid metal.

The doomed sharkanian continued to thrash on the floor. The ice grew thicker as it spread across the assassin, smothering him with frozen crystals that gleamed like diamonds. Within moments the ice had enveloped him completely in a solid block. The thrashing of the living sharkanian was becoming weaker and weaker. Ariel and Eric looked away, not wanting to see the inevitable conclusion of this curse. The sharkanian gave one last desperate thrash within its icy prison, and then he went limp. His body adopted a frozen pallor as the ice claimed him.

Nobody moved for several tense seconds. Then Eric took a hesitant step forward, sword pointed at the frozen shark. He was about to prod the ice with his sword tip when the entire piece fractured into a hundred shards of ice. The king jumped backwards in surprise. The ice shards continued to fracture into smaller and smaller pieces. A cry from Ariel drew Eric's attention to the dead maid. Her body was crumbling into dust, cracks forming over her skin as though she was drying up. Black dust came off her in thick ribbons as she disintegrated. Before anything could be said or done the bodies were gone, transformed into respective piles of ice crystals and dust that were blowing away with the breeze. Everyone was staring at where the bodies had been. The only traces of their existence were the clothes the maid had used and the knives that had taken her life.

King Triton was the first to recover. "Search these waters immediately! If there are any more sharkanians around here I want them found! You two stay here." All but two of the merguards saluted and dove into the water, eager to carry out their king's orders. Triton and Urchin now moved over to Melody, who was still lying unconscious on the ground. Ariel was beside herself, holding her daughter's face in her hands while Grimsby stood over them. Tears poured from her eyes like a rainstorm. Eric dropped his sword and ran to her, his mind only thinking of his precious daughter sleeping on the stones as he skidded to his knees beside her.

"Melody! Wake up, honey! Please wake up!" Ariel pleaded as she kissed around her daughter's face, hoping that one of those kisses would be the one to wake her. Melody remained unresponsive. "She won't wake up! Why won't she wake up?"

Eric put his ear to her mouth and pressed a finger to her neck. Her breathing was shallow but steady, and her heart beat with a slow but consistent rhythm. He began looking her over from head to toe. A large red mark was developing around her neck from where the maid had grabbed her. He felt dried blood on the back of her head and saw a crimson mark on the white granite. "She hit her head on the stones. You!" he shouted, pointing at a nearby guard, "Go get the physician! And rouse the garrison! I want every available soldier on full alert!" The guard nodded before breaking into a full run for the castle.

"Come back, Melody," pleaded Ariel, her face inches from Melody. "Please come back to us."

Triton wrung the trident in his hands. He was certain that the immediate danger had passed, but he would have given his kingdom for Melody to be conscious with them. However, he had other things to worry about right now. He could worry about Melody when he was sure that they were all safe. His attention now turned to their surroundings.

The pavilion was a wreck. Shoes, platters, broken glasses, jewelry, and other belongings were scattered across the stone floor or floating in the pool. The orchestra's platform was in disarray, chairs and music stands tossed all over the place. Their instruments were strewn across the ground, many of which would never play again. The dining table looked as though a school of tuna had charged through it. Food was scattered all around it. The guests were completely gone, human and sea folk alike. Human guards were searching around the pavilion for any more assassins or hidden weapons.

Less than ten feet from Melody lay Prince William's body. The boy's skin had adopted the unmistakable pallor of death. His face was pale and his lips were an unhealthy blue hue. The chest of his jacket was stained dark with blood. A few drops of his blood marked the white marble surface of the floor next to him. His face was surprisingly calm considering how he had died.

Triton felt a familiar urge in his heart. It happened every time he heard of someone's death or had to watch a loved one pass on. He still felt it every time he saw his wife's image, whether in the small portrait he had in Atlantica or in his daughter's eyes. It was a small voice that whispered, "If I use the trident I could bring them back." But Triton was not a fool. He had tried that when Athena had died. Almost every Atlantican king or queen had tried to resurrect someone at one point or another, and every one of them had failed. It was hopeless. Mastery of death was a power far beyond the trident, or any other magic for that matter. Life was allotted its time and then it was over. That was how the world worked both on land and in the sea.

He looked back to Melody. Ariel was humming her favorite tune to her, as though the music would guide her back to the waking world. Eric knelt beside her, his hand wrapped around Melody's, sword tossed aside and forgotten. Melody's eyes were darting about underneath her eyelids as she dreamt.

* * *

She was falling again. The storm raged around Melody with renewed intensity. Giant waterspouts whipped at the frenzied ocean. The torrential rain beat on her skin like needles. Lightning flashed with blinding frequency all around. Towering needles of ice rose from the ocean, ready to impale her when her fall ended. Already the black tentacles were crawling up the spires to ensnare her. She could hear that familiar evil laughter as it clawed at long gone memories.

Melody was weightless and numb as she fell towards the ocean. She no longer cared what happened, whether in her dreams or the real world. She did not want to wake up. What was the point of waking up? A giant predator stalked her ocean and monsters haunted her dreams. Now there were assassins on the land and her beloved Prince William was dead just moments after confessing their love to each other. She wanted to strike the ice below and end it all. If it would give her an escape from all the misery the real world held then she would accept it. She felt herself falling faster, as though the weight of her woes was pulling her towards the ice with renewed vigor.

* * *

To say that the leader was mad would be an understatement. It pounded its fists against the canyon wall in anger, sending up a storm of curses that would make even the hardest of sailors blush. The sounds of breaking glass and falling rock filled the canyon.

That blasted, useless, hotheaded rookie of a shark had botched the whole thing in a matter of seconds! He was lucky that the chef had killed him, because a much worse fate would have awaited him upon his return. The leader was regretting using sharkanians at all for this mission. It would have been better to find some human mercenaries, pay them what they wanted before the job, give them the spells, and offer a bonus for a timely completion as extra incentive. The end result was almost always a well-executed plan. Mercenaries cost money, however, and the Master would notice even a small amount of gold suddenly disappearing without its knowledge. Sharkanians were free and plentiful, but they were too brash and temperamental. When the odds turned against them they were willing to go back on any agreement to save their hides. Even the veteran the leader had so carefully chosen turned out to be a disappointment. One jolt from the trident and he was ready to spill the beans on everything. The leader was glad the transformation spells had come with a "kill-switch" just in case of such treachery-not that either of them would have been allowed to live considering their failure.

The leader stopped pummeling the wall. It let out a heavy sight and ran a hand through its hair. It had not been a complete waste. King Willard's son was dead. This would likely end any relations between his and Eric's kingdoms. It could even lead to war. The physical trauma the princess had suffered would pale in comparison to the emotional traumas waiting for her when she woke up, assuming she escaped the sorcery-induced nightmares she was trapped in. Still, it would have been better if it were Melody lying dead on the ground instead of the William. Even Ariel would have been a better choice-her family would have suffered just as much heartbreak.

The leader looked into the sphere again. Ariel was stroking her daughter's face as she slept, her cheeks streaked with tears of worry. Eric was by her side. Chef Louis was being led back to the castle by Grimsby, his hands wringing his hat as he tried to come to terms with the life he had just taken. Urchin, now turned back into a merman, was leaving to lead the search underwater. Prince William's body lay on the ground, his skin tinged a deathly blue. The knives that had taken the life of the Vanessa-lookalike lay net to her clothes, blood still visible on the blades. Not a bad night's work, but not the scene the leader wanted to see either.

The leader was about to end the spell when a glint of yellow from the dead maid's clothes caught its eye. It wrapped its hands around the orb, encouraging it to move in closer. Something was hidden under the clothes. As the image closed around the strange lump, the outlines of the object became clearer. The leader felt a thrill of delight go through it.

It was the maid's disguise charm-at least, that's what the leader had told the sharkanian it was. In truth it was much more than that. Somehow it had come through the chaos intact. There was still some fun to be had. Reaching back into the darkness the leader grasped a long vial. A vile purple liquid could be seen swirling inside of it by the light of the viewing orb. The leader poured the vile contents over the orb, the strange liquid behaving as though it was on land and not in the depths of the sea. The fluid smothered the orb like tar. Instantly the image disappeared, replaced with a swirling inky purple mirage. The leader thrust its hand at the orb. Instead of hitting the glass surface it plunged into it, as though the orb was a gateway to an endless void.

It pushed its arm in up to its elbow. Now where was he? The boy had not been dead for long enough to have gotten very far. Suddenly the leader grasped hold of something in the netherworld. "Gotcha!" it said. The orb now turned a yellow green color and began to glow brightly. Black sinuous shapes writhed like snakes in the gloomy light. The leader could not keep an evil smile from creeping across its face.

It was time to get reacquainted.

* * *

Back at the pavilion, Eric was lifting Melody to carry her back to the castle. She was still asleep from the shock of seeing William and the maid killed in front of her and the trauma to her head. She had never experienced the horrors of was. Eric had made a promise when she was born that she would never experience the horrors of war. It was a promise he had managed to keep until tonight. He knew Melody would be scarred in a way that no medicine could heal save time itself, but he was relieved that she was still here with them.

Ariel walked by his side, not wanting to leave Melody for an instant. She could not shake the terrible feeling of helplessness that had gripped her when Vanessa threw her to the floor and went for her throat. She had fought through the crowd of people with all her strength, but it had been in vain. For a split second she had thought her daughter was going to be killed right in front of her. It was the most horrible thing she had ever experienced.

They were walking past the remains of the maid when Ariel noticed a glimmer of gold from under the collar of her outfit. It was a small gold chain. Her natural curiosity got the better of her. Maybe she could return it to whoever the sharkanians had stolen it from-provided they were still alive.

Eric stopped walking. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure," said Ariel. She grasped the chain and gently lifted it. A small round object could be seen moving under clothes as she extracted the chain. The moment the centerpiece of the necklace came into view, Ariel dropped it and jumped backwards as though it had turned into a poisonous snake.

Lying on the ground was a familiar golden nautilus shell. The spiraling shell glinted in the light of the lanterns. The gold chain Ariel had seen was attached to it. A ghostly green glow emanated from the shell, no less sinister than on the day it had taken her voice.

Eric stared in disbelief. "Ariel...is that what I think it is?"

Ariel was not listening. Without thinking she bolted for the shell and raised her foot, ready to bring it down with all the strength she had. She stomped down with the force of a hammer, wanting to crush it until it could never appear again.

The glow of the shell suddenly intensified. It shot to the side just before Ariel's foot could make contact. It darted around the floor in a mad zigzag before it took to the air. It zipped around the room like a sparrow free of its cage, leaving streaks of green light in its path.

"Daddy, shoot it!" yelled Ariel as the shell zipped towards him.

Triton was forced to duck as the shell passed within inches of his head. "What is that?" he asked, the shell now looping back over the pool.

"Ursula's necklace!" said Ariel. "It's Ursula's necklace! Destroy it! Hurry!"

Triton was aiming the trident before Ariel was finished, but it was too late. The shell gave a final zigzag in midair and then dove straight for Prince William's body.

"No!" shouted Ariel, reaching desperately out for the shell despite it being well out of her reach. The shell flew onto the prince's chest like a bird to its perch. It remained motionless there, and then the chain suddenly broke and reattached itself around the prince's neck. The glow from the shell increased from a bright glow to a brilliant radiance, causing everyone to shield their eyes. Then the light vanished as quickly as it appeared.

For several tense moments the room was silent. Everyone watched the prince's body with absolute focus, looking for even the smallest change. So you can imagine that everyone jumped about five feet into the air when he suddenly inhaled deeply and gave a spasm as though he had been shocked. Triton immediately rushed to Ariel and Eric's side as several human guards formed a wall between the reanimated William and the kings. They shifted nervously, as bewildered and frightened as the queen and her family.

Ariel could not tear her eyes away as she watched William breathe. A part of her wanted to believe that it really was the young prince miraculously brought back to life, but she knew better. This was not a miracle-or good news.

"William?" she asked hesitantly, secretly hoping she would get no answer.

"Guess again!" William sat bolt upright, causing everyone to flinch away. His skin was still deathly pale, and the wound in his chest was still present. His eyes, however, were different. They glowed with the same vile green color that the shell had moments earlier. His face bore an uncharacteristically wicked grin, as though it was being pulled into an unnatural contortion. Slowly he got to his feet, taking a few staggered steps before regaining his balance.

Triton leveled the trident at the undead prince. "What sorcery is this?"

"It looks like you had quite a party planned," said William, ignoring the merking as he looked around the room. "Did I miss the cake and presents? I hear the dancing was a real spectacle." He laughed in a deep full-blown laugh that was not his own. "Where is the birthday girl, anyway? Ah, there she is!" William stepped towards Melody.

"Stop!" ordered Triton. A blast of light leapt from the trident, striking William square in the stomach. Ice instantly built around his legs and worked its way up to his hips, anchoring him to the floor.

"Really, Triton?" mocked the half frozen prince. "Such cold treatment after so long. No 'how have you been?' or 'what kept you?'"

Eric held Melody tighter, afraid that the dead prince would steal her from him with some strange magic. "You're not William. Name yourself!"

William shook his head sadly as he straightened his jacket. "You as well, Eric? I know we only had two dates prior to tonight's little reunion, but has it been so long that you forgot about me completely? I'm hurt." The undead prince turned to Ariel. The unnatural glow from his eyes made her shy away. "I would have expected at least some recognition from you and your father, Ariel."

Ariel could only stare in horror. This evening had already turned into a nightmare. Now it was like a horror story come to life. "Who are you?"

"Still haven't figured it out? Perhaps a more familiar voice." William gently touched the shell around his throat. It gave a brief green glow before going dim once more. "How's that, fish cakes?" said an icy female voice. "Ringing any bells?"

Ariel, Eric, and Triton felt their blood run cold as their hair stood on end. They knew that voice. It had been seven years since they last heard it, but that sinister, baleful female tenor was unmistakable. It was a voice that had spoken falsehoods to their daughter and nearly conquered the oceans not once, but twice.

"Morgana," whispered Ariel, the word rolling off her tongue like a burst of thunder.

"William" laughed in that way only Morgana could as he clapped. "And the redhead guesses correctly! Back from the dead by popular demand, it's the one and only Mor-gana!" He took a deep bow, as though the astonished horror on their faces was the standing ovation of a packed theater.

The trident turned red in Triton's hands, glowing with the intensity of a sword after being pulled from a furnace. Ariel dashed to take Melody from Eric as her husband took a sword from a nearby guard, pointing the tip straight at William. Ariel knelt with Melody on the floor, cradling her daughter close. The guards quickly encircled William, their sword tips pointed at him.

"Oh please," said William, rolling his eyes as he fixed one of his cuffs. "Is that supposed to intimidate me? Your pathetic swords are useless against me. I may not be able to hurt you-unfortunately-but nothing you do to him can hurt me either. Besides, I just came here to talk. No need to get so defensive."

"You are dead!" shouted Triton, as though the statement would negate what was happening before his eyes. The trident glowed even brighter in his hands. "I watched you fall into the frozen abyss encased in ice! It is impossible that you survived that!"

William picked something out of his nails. "Yes, I do remember getting turned into a fish-sicle after your meddling granddaughter ruined my plans...which I promise I will pay you both back for in full," he hissed, glaring at Triton. "But as you can clearly see I'm not dead anymore...actually you can't see me since I'm not physically there, but let's gloss over that little technicality, shall we? Hmm?"

Ariel felt sick to her stomach. It was nauseating to hear Morgana's voice coming from William's mouth. Not ten minutes ago those lips had given Melody her first kiss. Now they were announcing the return of the witch who had nearly succeeded in throwing the oceans into a dark age. "You can't be alive," she said.

William turned his gaze on Ariel and Eric. His eye twitched slightly in hatred at seeing them, yet the mad grin on his face showed delight in witnessing their fear. "Ah, yes, the little mermaid and her hubby who ruined my sister's plans for oceanic domination. Still so lovely after so long... and so naive." Ariel could feel Morgana's hatred pouring out of William's gaze, washing over her like rotted seaweed. It made her skin crawl.

"Oh, and to answer your initial question, Triton, the boy is very much dead. Lights out, turned up his fins, bit the big one, riding the white seahorse, sleeping with the fishes- dead, dead, dead, dead, DEAD!" William laughed again, relishing the refreshed look of disbelief and fear on the kings and queen's faces. "Perhaps you need more convincing...how about a magic trick?" William grasped the ice encasing his lower half with both hands. With a violent jerk he twisted himself so his back was to the group, and then grabbed his head and twisted it so he faced them once more. "Tada! If he wasn't dead before then he sure is now!"

"Stop!" Ariel screamed, turning away from the macabre sight as she shielded Melody. She was glad her daughter was not awake to witness this.

"Aw, you don't like magic tricks?" William cackled evilly as he twisted himself back around with a cringe worthy crunching noise. "Oh, it feels so good to be bad again!"

"Enough of this!" declared Triton. He pushed the guards aside as he glided over to William, the water supporting him churning with his anger. He thrust the trident underneath the prince's chin. "Release the boy, or I swear I will hunt you down to the ends of the ocean!"

"Again with the threats and demands," sighed William, pushing the end of the trident away with his finger. "Remember, whatever you do to his poor boy's body doesn't affect me in the least. You can have him back once I'm done. Of course..." William spreading his arms wide in invitation. "You're welcome to try and force me out. I'm sure the princess would love to find out her grandfather fried the body of her dead boyfriend to a crisp."

Triton was shaking with rage. He wanted to blast William into a pile of ash, even if all it did to Morgana was singe a hair on her head. But there was no point in mauling the poor boy's body to satisfy his desire for vengeance. He had no leverage in this situation. He lowered the trident and backed away slightly.

William grinned even wider. He was enjoying toying with them. It was like playing three fish on one hook. "I know! Since I'm in such a good mood and we're having our little reunion on your daughter's birthday, I'll give you all a gift," said William.

Ariel pulled Melody closer, shielding her with her body. Eric moved back towards his wife and daughter, sword never wavering for a moment. Triton pointed the trident at William again.

"Relax, my dearies. I won't harm a hair on her head...at least, not yet. It's just a trifle, really. Nothing to be so worked up over."

"What is it?" asked Eric.

William grinned. "An answer."

"A what?"

William smirked at the group. "I will answer one question of yours-no strings attached, no contracts, no price. You give one question, and I give one answer. But you better make it quick. I'm a busy little minion with places to go and seafolk to kill, so-."

"Who helped you?"

Everyone looked at Ariel. She was staring at William with steely eyes, still holding Melody close to her.

The dead prince raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What?"

"Who helped you?" repeated Ariel, never looking away from William's unnatural gaze. She had moved past fear and onto anger. "I don't know how you returned, how you're controlling William, or how you got the sharkanians to do your bidding. But you didn't return on your own, so someone has to be helping you. Who is it?"

"You're serious?" asked William, a look of genuine shock on his face.

Ariel's resolve faltered. "What?"

"That's your question? Who is helping me? Not 'how did you get out of the ice,' 'how did you get the sharkanians to ally with you,' or 'are you the one giving Melody nightmares'-which, by the way, I am."

Ariel stared at William in disbelief. "It was you?"

William burst into a fit of laughter. Ariel felt a strong sense of malaise in the pit of her stomach. The laugh of a sea witch was an omen of misfortune, foretelling of terrible things to come.

Triton grabbed William by the collar with one hand, the other pointing the trident at his stomach. "What's so funny?" he shouted.

"You are!" wheezed William as he wiped a tear from his eye. "You really don't know anything, do you? I can't believe we ever felt threatened. There we are, always looking over our shoulders or speaking with whispers in case you merfolk or humans are watching us, and the reality is you don't even have the slightest clue that we exist!"

Ariel felt her stomach turn in a knot. "We?"

* * *

Far, far away-farther than any ship, bird, or fish had ever ventured-the Voice was watching. It required no observers or enchanted orbs to see the events in the pavilion. It had other means of watching the world that had long been lost to humanity, merfolk, and sea witch alike.

The Voice watched as the petrified group listened to Morgana speak through the dead prince. It felt a sincere disgust at the witch. She was not as talented as her sister, but with some proper training she would have shown real potential with magic. Instead she squandered it all on acts of evil and vengeance. It knew the true purpose of this show was not to announce the witch's return. It was to break their spirits completely. Everything was meant to push them past the point of desperation. It was a work of gruesome genius meant to stain even the sturdiest of souls and purest of hearts. And it was working. Even as the group conversed with the revived sea witch, Melody was drifting further and further into darkness. Morgana had William's soul dancing to her every tune like a marionette dances to the pull of its strings. It could almost hear the boy's screams of fear and pain from the netherworld.

The Voice had seen enough. This ended now.

* * *

"Yes, _we_," sneered William, completely unfazed by Triton's roughness. "I'm not the only one who would love to take your head off, queenie. You've all made quite a few enemies in your lifetimes. We all just decided to make killing you a group effort."

Triton lifted William clear of the ice with one heave, leaving the prince dangling in the air by his shirt. "I've had enough of your games, Morgana! Who are your accomplices, and where are they?!"

"Ah-ah-ah," taunted William, wagging his finger at Triton, "One question. One answer. That was the deal. And I believe Ariel already asked the question."

The merking's temper broke. He dropped William to the ground, causing the prince to fall flat on his behind. Triton shoved the trident in the possessed boy's face. The fork was glowing deep red, fueled by the king's rage. "Then tell us! Who is aiding you?!"

William smiled wickedly. He may have been the one with a trident poised to blow his head off, but he had already won. Triton and his human family were hanging onto his every word. He was in control of the situation. "The Master did. There, I've answered your question."

"That's not fair! Who is 'the Master?'" shouted Eric.

"Do you think I'm the sort of cilophyte that would play fair?" replied William smugly. "I said I would give you an answer. I never said I would give you a _good_ answer."

"Insolent witch!" shouted Triton. The trident was giving off a dangerous humming noise like an angry wasp. Several of the guards backed away, more afraid of the merking's wrath than the undead prince. Even Eric and Ariel felt frightened by Triton in his current state.

"All the power of the seven seas, and you can't even save a single human boy," sneered William, clearly enjoying his position of power. "But you knew that already, didn't you? Otherwise you would have brought back your beloved bitch years ago."

"SILENCE!" Triton stuck the tip of the trident dangerously close to William's eye as he towered over him. It was taking all his willpower not to reduce William to less than dust. "I will find you! I'll scour this entire ocean until I do! And when I have found you, I swear I will stop you once and for all!"

"You'll stop me?" The grin vanished from William's face. He snatched the middle fork of the trident with his left hand. Ice began to grow over the metal. "This isn't like seven years ago, grandpa! It isn't even like twenty years ago when your son-in-law slew my sister! You've all been so lulled by these years of peace that you haven't noticed anything going on around you, and now you're waking up just when your last flame of hope is about to go out."

The ice began to grow up and around the trident, quickly encompassing the forks and working up the shaft. Triton tried to pull it back, but William held it like a vice. "I no longer fear you, Triton. You are a lesser son of greater kings. I almost have enough power now to match you, and soon I will surpass you. Even if you kill me, you are nowhere near a match for the Master. We are not a ragtag group of robbers squabbling in a dark cave somewhere. Our influence and people are everywhere. There is nowhere you can go that we won't find you, no safe haven where you can hide. Our monsters will drag your ships to the deep and devour your subjects. Our magic will overwhelm your soldiers faster than your swords can mow us down. Our armies will overrun you like a red tide through a reef. We'll raze your kingdoms to the ground before your eyes, and then drag you out by the hair for all to see! "

The undead prince threw his head back and laughed maniacally. Eric and Ariel stared in stunned silence, barely able to believe what they had just heard. There was absolutely no doubt in their minds that this was Morgana speaking to them now.

William snapped his head towards Ariel. She could feel an insatiable, unstable evil radiating from them. "And just when you think you've lost everything, I'll ask Master to let me flay you all alive in front of each oth-!"

A tongue of flame burst from William's left hand. He let go of the trident with a pained yell. Triton quickly backed away as everyone retreated away in confusion and surprise. William rolled around on the floor trying to put out the flame, but the fire remained strong and hot.

"What is this!? It hurts!" he screamed, clutching his burning hand. Jagged lines of burning red light began to grow from the flame, burning through the fabric of his jacket as they progressed up his arm. He scratched wildly at the marks with no effect. The shell around his neck began to glow again, responding to whatever strange magic had invaded the prince like an immune response to a pathogen.

"Triton?" asked Eric.

"This is not my doing!" replied Triton as the lines reached William's shoulder. "This is something else!"

The lines spread up the side of William's neck and across his chest. The shell was glowing even brighter now, as though the light were trying to resist the unknown invader. It had no effect on their advance. One of the lines reached his left eye. The green glow instantly changed to a burning orange. The shell started to crack, lines of red light appearing through the fractures. William stopped struggling as Morgana's spell began to lose its grip. His face became calm and stoic, devoid of any evil intention that had once possessed it.

"Enough! You will not have these young ones!" The voice belonged to neither William nor Morgana. It was a deep voice that resonated like thunder.

A circle of red light appeared on Melody's forehead. Ariel stared in awe and confusion as two red lines grew out and around Melody's head from the dot of light. The lines reconnected with the red dot, and then the light vanished.

Meanwhile, William raised his fist into the air, and then brought it down on the shell. It broke into a hundred pieces that scattered across the floor. Then the prince's went limp and collapsed to the floor, the light and lines fading away until they were gone.

The air was deathly quiet except for the faint clinking of armor and the lapping of the waves against the edge of the pavilion. Everyone was trying to wrap their heads around what they had just witnessed.

_Crang_! The sound of Triton smashing the trident straight through the pavilion floor drew everyone's attention. Ice chunks skidded across the pavilion floor with the force of the blow. The veins on his arm and hand were visible as he clutched the trident in anger. His breathing was slow and ragged. Ariel knew that he was trying to get his temper back under control. He was somewhere between fragile and enraged right now.

"Y-your orders, sire?" stammered one of the merguards from the pool.

Triton pulled the trident out of the pavilion floor. He took several deep breaths before he finally spoke. "Return to Atlantica. Have Sebastian and Urchin take two hundred soldier's each. Urchin is to head to the South Pole and investigate the remains of Morgana's lair."

The merguard saluted and made to leave, but stopped. "And Sebastian?"

"Send him to Ursula's lair," said Triton. Ariel and Eric looked at him with fear upon hearing the dead sea witch's name. The old merking's eyes reflected the same thought running through all their minds.

'_If Morgana is back, then Ursula may be as well_.'

* * *

Melody was still falling towards the icy spires below. The tentacles squirmed below her as she fell, eager to wrap themselves around her body. She could feel a gentle pull enticing her to fall faster, like invisible hands guiding her towards her doom. She did not care if she was crushed by tentacles or impaled on ice. Just so long as it ended the unbearable pain in her heart.

'_Do not give up._'

It was that voice again. Had it not done enough already? If it had spoken sooner then William might still be alive. Or if it had spoken later then at least they would still be together...

'_Banish such thoughts from your mind, princess_,' instructed the voice. It was laced with concern, like a parent trying to comfort its child. '_There was nothing I could have done. But there is something I can do for you now_.'

A wave of darkness erupted from the center of the ocean. It quickly spread out over everything, devouring the stormy sea like a black hole. The waves, clouds, tentacles, and ice all vanished within the growing shadow, and then it lifted up and swallowed the sky. Melody felt the familiar urgency of panic welling up inside her, but the leaden misery in her heart quickly stamped it out. Yet there was a new feeling as well. Some part of her was pleading for the darkness to devour the nightmare, as though she would reach a terrible point of no return if it did not hurry.

Suddenly Melody felt smooth cool stone under her feet as though she had been standing still the entire time. It was not like the pavilion stones. There were no small imperfections in the surface. This was smoother than glass. It almost felt pleasant, as though she was standing on a still lake surface. She looked around. Everything was pitch black. Then a single pinprick of light appeared in the distance. The light quickly began to grow, as though it was racing towards Melody.

"What is it?" asked Melody, unsure whether to run or not. She had heard the phrase 'light at the end of the tunnel' enough times to be wary.

'_Safety_,' replied the voice. The light slowed its rapid approach, becoming more discernible in the inky blackness as it came closer.

A small campfire was glowing invitingly in the middle of the darkness. The wood logs hissed and cracked as the fire danced on them, the red and orange flames whipping about like the leaves of a tree in a storm. It let of a gentle warmth that seeped into Melody. It felt like when she swam in the ocean just a few days ago, her worries and sorrows rolling off her shoulders like she was discarding a heavy jacket. Her body began to feel heavy.

A simple gray and red bedroll lay next to the fire, the blanket pulled back for someone to get in. Melody wondered if this was a new nightmare, the bed and fire part of an elaborate hoax to terrorize her further.

'_This place is safe_,' reassured the voice. '_As long as you stay near this fire your mind is untouchable while you sleep_.'

Melody was too tired to debate with the voice. She walked to the bedroll and lay down. It was surprisingly soft and comfortable, as though the ground beneath it was made of sponges. She felt the aches and woes of her broken heart begin to leave.

"Who are you?" she asked, sleep beginning to call to her. "Why are you doing this?"

'_Who I am is not important_,' answered the voice, '_But know that I am not an enemy to you or your family. You all have your roles to play in the coming storm, and I would see you all survive it_.'

"What storm?"

'_That is enough for now,_' said the voice. '_You must rest._'

Melody stared into the fire. She felt her eyes become heavy as she watched the flickering flames. She pulled the blanket over herself, felling it encompass her like an impenetrable shield. She felt like something was watching over her, keeping the nightmares at bay and chasing away her fears. All except for one.

"William's dead, isn't he?"

The voice was silent for a long pause. '_Yes_.'

Melody gripped the blanket tighter. She knew it already, but she needed to hear it. She felt that she would drive herself into delusions if she did not. She closed her eyes as the first tears left them. They would be the first of many. The warmth of the fire washed over her like a warm current, gently guiding her into the first peaceful sleep she had in over a month.

* * *

"EYYYYAAAAHHHHHH!"

Morgana was trying to yank her arm free of the orb, which was now glowing a brilliant orange color. Something had a hold of her from whatever phantasmal place her spell went to. Her arm felt like it was being pierced by thousands of red-hot knives while the bones were being twisted like a corkscrew. She was trying to extract her arm from the spell, but whatever had her clearly wanted a piece of her-literally.

She threw her tentacles around a nearby rock and pulled with all her might. The orb seemed to hold her fast, and then it suddenly let her go. Morgana shot backwards, slamming into the nearby cliff wall. She inspected her arm, expecting to see large burn marks and bits of charred skin floating off. Instead her arm was completely unscathed. Not so much as a scrape marred her cold gray skin.

She turned back to the orb. It was still glowing, but now it was a mix of black, oranges and reds that swirled together. The colors began to separate from each other, the black coalescing in the center while the warmer colors formed a ring. Suddenly the colors snapped into place, creating what was unmistakably an eye. The vertical black pupil was surrounded by an iris of red and orange, making it appear that fire radiated out from behind it.

"You dare attack me?" seethed Morgana, clutching her surprisingly intact arm. "Whoever or whatever you are, you just made the biggest mistake of your considerably shortened life!"

"Be silent, witch!" snapped a deep thunderous voice, the glow from the eye flaring up. "It is ten millennia too early for a whelk like you to threaten me! Listen well. I will be taking the boy's soul for safekeeping so neither you nor your Master can lay your foul hands on him. As for the princess, your time torturing her dreams is over. The girl is under my protection now. Neither you nor your kin will ever set so much as a finger or tentacle in her sleep ever again." The slit narrowed threateningly at her. "And if you do somehow manage to get through, I swear I will show you a fate that will make you plead for the deepest circle of the underworld!"

The orb began to vibrate violently. Cracks spread through its surface, radiating white light that illuminated the trench for the first time in centuries. A loud hum filled the water, as though the orb was trying to shake the canyon apart. Then the orb shattered in a brilliant flash that forced Morgana to cover her eyes. When she looked again it was dark once more, the orb having completely disintegrated into bubbles.

A stabbing pain hit Morgana's head. It felt like something was boring into her skull, piercing her far down inside her psyche. It was like another mind trying to invade her own.

'_Morgana_.' The voice was inside her head. It was unmistakably female. It was as cold and sharp as a chilled razor blade, slicing through Morgana's thoughts like a sword. It was almost painful. '_Return immediately_.'

"Get out, Remora!" snapped Morgana, clutching her head in discomfort. "I don't take orders from you!"

'_It is not me ordering your return_,' said Remora calmly. '_The Master is most displeased_.'

Morgana froze. How had he found out? She had been careful in the extreme to leave no trace of her plot. She shuddered to think of what the consequences would be for her personal assassination plot. "T-Tell him I'll be there as quickly as I can."

'_Make it faster_.' The pain receded from her head as the invading psyche withdrew itself.

For anyone who happened to pass over that canyon on that fateful night, a long wail of anger and hate could be heard that would make the hair on a howling hairfish stand on end.

* * *

**AN: Whew! That was a tough chapter to write for some reason. Hopefully it will be smoother writing for a while. More to come next time, as well as the fate of the mysterious traveler! For those of you that are wondering, sharkanians are a race from the TV series. And for those of you that didn't know, yes there is a Disney Little Mermaid TV series.**

**As always, your comments/thoughts/constructive criticism is appreciated! If you like it, then follow it! And please point out any errors you notice so I can fix them.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Mermaid or any of its characters. Everything else, however, is mine.**


	6. Chapter 6: Aftermath

Chapter 6: Aftermath

The morning was as heavy and sad as the mood of the kingdom. The entire coastline was shrouded in a blanket of fog so thick that the world became a gray slate after twenty feet. Houses, castles, rocks, and people would appear and vanish like ghosts in the vapor. The street lamps of nearby Seahaven Town remained lit well past sunrise, floating in the mist like will-o'-the-wisps. The fog lent a damp chill to the air, coating everything with a fine layer of water droplets. Calls of seagulls flying in the mist echoed along the shoreline with the lull of the waves crashing on the shore. It was as doleful as a graveyard.

Ariel stood with Eric at the edge of the beachside pavilion. Low tide had dropped the sea level several feet, exposing the stone pylons supporting the structure. Barnacles, mussels, and various seaweeds clung to the rocky supports. There were no signs of the tragic events that occurred seven days earlier. The holes in the canopy from the trident and the assassin's weapon had been fixed, as had the fracture in the floor where Triton's temper got the better of him. The decorations were tucked away deep in the castle until another celebration, although right now it felt as if that day would never come. Ariel wore a heavy blue cloak to protect her from the cold, but even that could not hold back the chill entirely. She wore her favorite blue and black dress underneath, but the bow in her hair was black instead of the usual ocean blue. Eric was dressed in his casual white shirt and black pants, but he had opted for a black sash instead of his red one. He wore no cloak to shield himself from the nippy morning air. A part of him felt he did not deserve one for letting harm come to William and Melody. Neither he nor Ariel had been feeling very bright since William's death. No one had for that matter.

Eric pulled a silver pocket-watch from his pocket. The hands read a quarter past ten, but the chill in the air made it feel much earlier. Dew was already clinging to the glass watch face despite its brief exposure to the air.

"He's late," said Eric, returning the watch to his pocket. He fidgeted with the chain nervously. "Your father is never late."

Ariel noticed her husband's fidgeting. It was a habit he had developed when he was anxious. She took Eric's hand away from the chain and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "He'll be here."

As though on cue the ocean below of them began to churn. A moment later the familiar golden crown and white beard of King Triton emerged from the water. He rose up on a pillar of water until he was even with Ariel and Eric. Ariel immediately noticed the dark circles and lines around his eyes, sure signs of several sleepless nights. '_I probably look no better_,' thought Ariel. Triton was not the only one having trouble sleeping.

"Hi daddy," said Ariel tiredly, wobbling slightly on her feet.

"Hello, Ariel. And you too, Eric," said Triton. "Why were you so insistent on meeting me this morning? Flounder told me it was urgent that I meet you as soon as possible."

"It is," said Eric, producing a piece of folded yellow paper from his pocket. He handed it to Triton, who began reading the scribbled message. "Willard came last night to pick up his son's body. I was given that by one of his attendants. He's not only ended the relationship between our kingdoms, but left the alliance completely."

"He did what?" exclaimed Ariel. This was the first she had heard of it. She knew Willard was a calculating, methodical -not to mention unpleasant- man who never acted on impulse. For him to suddenly withdraw from the alliance seemed about as likely as him diving off the crow's nest of a ship on impulse.

Triton continued to read. His face fell at the same rate he read down the letter. "It does seem rash, but I can hardly blame the man," said Triton, handing the letter back to Eric. "William was his only son, not to mention one of the finest young human men I ever knew. I cannot imagine the sort of pain he is in. No parent should ever have to bury their child."

Ariel stared at the ground. The memory of Willard collecting his son's body was painfully clear in her mind. She and Eric had dressed completely in black. Melody had stood by her side, face hidden behind a black veil and silent as a stone. Willard had flown into a grief-driven rage the moment he saw them, aggravated further as the guards brought out the coffin holding his son. He had screamed all sorts of accusations and curses at them. None of them had felt like stopping him, all feeling responsible in their own way for the young prince's death. She could still hear his voice in her head and see the teardrops falling off Melody's cheeks as she stood silently. Willard had to be pulled away by his own guards in the end, or he would have stayed there until he went hoarse. His last words to them before leaving were a threat to have them all arrested if they tried to go to the funeral.

"He blames us for William's death-especially Melody," said Eric, running a hand through his hair as though to shake out the memory of yesterday. "He thinks William would still be alive if not for Melody. He was spouting profanities and curses like you would not believe, accusing her of putting some sort of 'mermaid spell' on him."

Triton's cheeks flushed with anger. "Melody was nearly killed by the same assassins!" he shouted. "How can he blame her when she was almost a victim herself?"

"Because William saved her life," said Ariel quietly. "We all saw what he did. He knew that Melody was in danger and pushed her out of the way. If he hadn't then..." She stopped short of finishing her sentence, not wanting to restate the mournfully obvious. Ariel felt a sorrowful gratefulness towards the late prince. He had saved her Melody's life, but the cost had been his own. How she wished there was a way that both of them could have come out of that night unharmed. But the sad truth was that they had not.

"How did they even get in?" asked Triton.

"It was the violinist and the maid," answered Eric. "Martin and Rachel are their names. As I understand it, the two of them have been in love for some time now. They frequently go to the beach together for lunch. That's probably how the sharkanians knew when and were to be. Martin said he was playing his violin for Rachel while she danced in the surf. Rachel doesn't remember being attacked, but Martin said that one moment she was twirling in the surf and the next a shark monster was dragging her in. When he tried to save her the other one bit him on the leg and knocked him out. He was partly conscious when they took human form, so he caught bits of their convers-."

The call of a seagull interrupted his recounting. The call was closer than the others they had heard that morning. A second closer call caused the group to look southwards down the coast. The familiar grey and white wings of Scuttle were flapping towards them. Something brown and hemispherical was on his head. The gull began a swooping descent towards the pavilion, preparing to alight on the southern edge. A slight breeze caused him to wobble and drop several feet.

"Scuttle, wait!" shouted Ariel. "You're coming in too low!"

The gull corrected his approach with a sudden ascent, but his foot caught on the edge of the pavilion. Scuttle went into a flop that rolled him across the pavilion until he was right at Eric's feet. Feathers flew everywhere, settling around him like snowfall.

"Did someone get the numbah on that wind?" squawked Scuttle. If a gull could have starfish dancing around his head after a fall, Scuttle would have a full dozen. The gull picked himself up and began smoothing his feathers. Ariel noticed that the brown thing on his head was half of a coconut shell that had been modified into a helmet.

"Scuttle?" said Triton, eying the eccentric bird curiously. "What brings you here?"

Scuttle gave an overly stiff salute with the wrong wing and nearly knocked his helmet off. His disheveled feathers made look like the definition of comical. "Just finished the mornin' patrol of the coast, sir! No suspicious persons or witches to report, sir!"

"Ah...yes..." Triton had forgotten that he appointed Scuttle to monitor the coasts. It had been more to keep the clumsy bird occupied than an actual patrol. "Ehm...good work, Scuttle. Nice to see you so... committed."

The bird bowed so low that his beak nearly scraped the floor. "Just doing what I can to help the princess, sires!" His helmet started to fall off, but he quickly caught it and secured it back on. Scuttle turned to Ariel. "Speakin' of Melody, how is she?" Ariel and Eric's faces turned immediately sad. "Oh...not good, huh?"

Ariel stared solemnly at the ground. "Melody was in love with William. She used to positively glow at the mention of his name. About a year ago she admitted to me that she was falling for him. She told me they had just admitted their feelings to each other that night." Ariel sighed and looked up to where Melody's balcony would be in the fog. "She spends all day locked in her room crying, sleeping, or holding his present for her. She's barely eating and won't see any of her friends, let alone us. She was an absolute mess yesterday after Willard left."

She felt tears threatening to well up in her eyes as she remembered the previous night. Ariel had gone to Melody's room and found the door unlocked. Melody was sitting on the edge of her bed holding the present William had given her. The rectangular white box wrapped in a bright yellow ribbon was still unopened. Ariel had sat next to Melody without a word. Melody seemed to break the moment Ariel put her arm around her. She sobbed uncontrollably in her arms for what seemed like hours until she fell asleep from exhaustion. Every tear pulled at Ariel's heartstrings. She could not remember the last time she had hugged her daughter so tightly, wishing that their contact would transfer some of Melody's pain onto herself.

"What do I do?" she asked pleadingly to Triton, hoping he would have some pearl of fatherly wisdom that could make everything right again. "She's in so much pain and I don't know how to help her."

Triton looked at his daughter with sad eyes of his own. He could see the tears starting to form. He moved up onto the pavilion and put a hand on her shoulder. "Only time will heal those wounds, Ariel. There is no potion or spell that can heal a broken heart. Do you remember how sad we all were when your mother passed? It seemed as though we would never be happy again, but in time we were. The best you can do is be there for her. We all can." Triton brushed the tears from his daughter's eyes, smiling sadly at her. "Have patience-we will see her smile again. I promise."

Ariel returned a small smile. Even after all these years the comfort of his large hands still reassured her when she felt lost.

Another question rose in Ariel's mind. It was a question she had wanted to avoid all morning, but it was one she had to ask. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. "Have Urchin and Sebastian returned?"

A worried expression crossed Trident's face. He was hoping to avoid this as well. "They returned to Atlantica yesterday afternoon." He saw Ariel and Eric tense in dreaded anticipation of his answer. They were as anxious as he was. He knew they were praying for good news. He was going to hate disappointing them. "Morgana is gone. The ice that was holding her was broken. Ursula's remains have been taken as well."

Ariel drew an audibly sharp breath, eyes widening in fear. She heard paper crumpling as Eric clenched Willard's letter in his fist.

"It gets worse," continued Triton. "Undertow, Cloak, and Dagger escaped from prison three days ago. Even the remains of Flotsam and Jetsam are gone. Morgana and Ursula's lairs have been completely ransacked. There was not so much as a piece of glass or a drop of potion left in either of them."

"Why would someone search their lairs?" asked Eric. "You personally searched through their lairs with the soldiers and destroyed all their materials before sealing them up. You told us nothing could break the trident's spells except the trident itself."

Triton grimaced. "I was wrong. The seals were forcibly broken. I can imagine that this 'Master' Morgana spoke of had a hand in it. There were hidden compartments all over their lairs. We only ever looked for things that were concealed with magic because I never imagined those witches would rely on simply hiding things. They were always looking for the chance to use their magic, even if it was just to hide a few ingredients. There is no telling how much or what sort of materials they had stored away in their dens."

Ariel felt a trembling in her hand. She looked over to Eric. He was trying to remain still, but there was a faint tremor in his grip. Or was it her hand that was shaking? Either way their fears were well founded. Morgana or Ursula on their own was dangerous enough. To have both of them on the loose, more powerful than before, and with help from an unknown 'Master'- Ariel could not find the word to describe how much of a menace that was. And to be able to break through a spell from the trident would require enormous magical power. Ariel knew of no such power anywhere in the ocean except for the trident, and the fact that she did not know terrified her.

"Did you find out anything about this 'Master' or who the 'we' Morgana referred to is?" asked Eric, struggling to keep his voice even. "Or if there is a connection between what's happening in the oceans?"

The merking stared out into the fog, collecting his thoughts. "Nothing."

"But there has to be!" exclaimed Ariel. "Morgana said they have influence and people everywhere! How can we not know who they are?"

Triton shook his head. "You don't understand. I mean there was absolutely nothing for us to go on. No suspicious persons, no patterns, no trails, no money changing hands, no strange objects, no rumors-there is no evidence for any sort of group orchestrating all of this." Triton looked to Eric. He recognized the frustrated expression on his face. It was the same one he had seen in his reflection every time he passed a mirror. "You found the same I take it?"

Eric nodded regretfully. "I had Grimsby and the guards pour over every single report in the past year, and sent letters to Gerrod and Ben asking them to look for the same. We followed every coin that has changed hands and every incident in our kingdom since before Melody was born. Every missing ship and person, monster sighting, slave caravan arrest, town vanishing and pirate attack. I even had them look at the more petty crimes like pickpockets and tavern scuffles. There is nothing even reminiscent of a pattern to any of it." He shifted slightly so that he could look at both Ariel and Triton. They were hanging onto his every word. "Whoever these...people are, they are extremely good at covering their tracks. We're fumbling around in the dark after ghosts. Assuming that Morgana was telling us the truth..."

"Then we are dealing with an organized group of magic-wielding killers that can hide their presence on the land and the sea," finished Triton.

The group went quiet as they let the news sink in. Ariel was genuinely shaking now. It was not Ursula and Morgana's magical powers that she feared the most. It was their cunning and tenacity. They were both skilled in tricking other into doing their work for them with the least amount of effort. Ariel knew first hand how easily they could do it. Ursula's garden of polyps-or 'poor unfortunate souls' as she had cruelly called them- had been a testament to that ability. Morgana had been able to turn Melody's rediscovery of her locket into a near-seamless plan for oceanic domination. Ariel did not want to think of what they could achieve if they worked together. All they would need is one slip up, one mishap, or one overlooked detail, and they could start a chain of events that could spell near-certain doom for them all. To make matters worse, Morgana said a 'Master' who was strong enough to raise them both from the dead was helping them.

'_What sort of monster would be strong enough to resurrect and control both Morgana and Ursula, and break the trident's spells_?' wondered Ariel. Her stomach tied itself into knots just thinking about it.

"So what happens now?" asked Scuttle.

The group jumped at hearing Scuttle speak. They had forgotten he was there. "Oh...right..." Eric gave his head a shake to clear out his worries. "I've sent out patrols across the kingdom, and posted guards in the town and docks. They're looking for anyone and anything suspicious. Grimsby is setting up a pass-code system in the palace to make sure an assassin can't sneak in again, and I've doubled the castle guard as well. I'll be sending out our naval fleet to patrol within the next week. What about in Atlantica?"

"We are doing the same," answered Triton, stroking his beard. "I've sent out as many of our soldiers as I can spare to keep an eye out for anything unusual. Sebastian and Urchin are currently interviewing all of the palace guards to find any spies. I am also organizing a battalion with the sole purpose of hunting down Ursula and Morgana. If they are out there, we will find them." Triton sighed and rubbed his eyes. This felt like preparing for war, something he desperately wished to avoid. "What about Melody?"

"That's the other reason we wanted to talk to you," said Ariel. "We can't keep her safe on land-not if Morgana can hide her underlings as our own people. Morgana wants revenge on her since she's the one who ruined her plans. Right now she is in more danger than the rest of us."

Eric nodded in agreement. "I want to send her and Ariel to stay with you in Atlantica." Ariel turned to Eric, surprise written over her face. He had made no mention of sending her to Atlantica as well. She was about to protest when he turned to face her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You'll be safer in the sea with your father than here on land," he explained before she could question him. She could feel the worry in his trembling arms. "I can't protect you on the land the way he can in the sea."

"Actually..." said Triton, rotating the trident nervously in his hand. "I was going to suggest the opposite. I want you and Melody to stay out of the ocean."

Ariel was shocked to say the least. Had she heard correctly? King Triton, ruler of the seven seas and wielder of the trident, was telling her to stay out of the water? She now turned her surprised face to her father. "What? But why? Atlantica is the safest place in the world right now!"

"It isn't. I cannot protect you," said Triton sadly.

Eric bristled slightly at his father-in-law. "You can't or you won't?" he accused, his desperation to protect his family making him touchier than usual.

The merking's chest swelled in agitation. "Do not mistake my refusal for sloth! I would give my life to protect any of you! No member of my family is any less dear to me than another!" The old king sighed tiredly. His voice was calmer and tinged with concern when he spoke again. "But I am getting old, Eric. The trident helps to keep me strong, but I am not the young merman I once was. My strength is not what it used to be. I am also a king, and as a king yourself you should understand that I have a duty to protect everyone in Atlantica. As much as I want to devote myself to protecting Ariel, Melody, and all of my family, I cannot make the safety of Atlantica's people a second priority. They have their own families and friends that are relying on me. And do not forget that the ocean is Ursula and Morgana's home territory, not to mention this Riptide beast that is on the loose. The ocean is vast with plenty of places to hide. If those two witches are in the sea, I have no doubt they would find a way to get to them in Atlantica." Triton shook his head and looked to Ariel. "No, you will be safer on land than in the sea with me. I do not think you or Melody should go in the ocean unless it is absolutely necessary. In fact, I want to send your sisters and their families to stay with you for a while. It would put my mind at ease to know they were somewhere the witches cannot get to them so easily."

Ariel wanted to argue back, but she knew in her heart that her father was right. He adored Melody. She was his first grandchild -and possibly his favorite- and he always had a soft spot for her. He would risk his own life before endangering theirs. If he thought the sea was more dangerous than the land, he would not bring them into it. He would not ask her to take her sisters in unless he was absolutely certain they would be safer on land. Still, she hated the idea of being separated from her beloved ocean again. The sea was as much a part of her and Melody as the land was. It would be like leaving a part of themselves in the waves.

"Your daughters and their families are more than welcome here, Triton, but that still leaves us with the question of how to protect Melody," said Eric, his brow furrowed in frustration. "I trust our soldier's and yours with my life, but you saw that sharkanian. He looked just like a normal human, and whatever spell was on him could resist the power of the trident. And the soldiers have other duties and their own families to protect as well. I'm already spreading them thin trying increase the security of our kingdom."

"Can we put the sea wall back up?" asked Ariel, although she already had her doubts.

Triton shook his head. "That did not stop Morgana from getting to her last time. Nor did it keep Melody from going to her. They would both find a way through."

"We could send her somewhere outside the kingdom where it's safer," suggested Eric.

"No!" said Ariel loudly, more panic in her voice than she would have liked. The thought of being separated from Melody terrified her even more than the sea witches being back from the dead. "Morgana said they have agents everywhere. They could find her again. What if she ran into another assassin? I couldn't bear to spend every day wondering if she was safe or if..." Tears were starting to well up in her eyes again as the scenarios wheeled in her mind.

Eric pulled Ariel close, embarrassed by how worried he had made her. "I'm sorry. I promise we won't send her away. We'll keep her here with us." He planted a kiss on her forehead and held her tight to his chest, gently stroking her hair as she calmed down. He looked to Triton, his eyes pleading for a solution. Triton sincerely wished that he had one, but there seemed to be no answer to their situation.

"What about a bodyguard?" asked Scuttle.

Everyone looked down at the seagull. "A what?"

"A bodyguard," said the bird. "You know, someone who stays with Melody and keeps her safe at all times. And since you have that big tournament thingy coming up, you could find a really good one."

Ariel looked at Scuttle as though he had sprouted a second head. She was about to rebuke him when her mind started to truly process what he had said. It was as though a switch had been flipped inside her. In one moment her mind had gone from borderline despair to having a flame of hope light up inside her.

"What? Do I have something on my beak?" asked the gull as he shuffled bashfully under her gaze.

Ariel knelt down to her feathered friend. "Scuttle, I cannot believe I'm saying this, but you are a genius."

"I am?" said Scuttle amazedly.

"He is?" said Triton and Eric with even more amazement. There were many words to describe Scuttle-clumsy, doltish, eccentric, and confused were a few good ones. 'Genius' what not one that was frequently used or came immediately to mind.

"Bear with me," said Ariel, her voice becoming more animated as she explained. "We can't send Melody to Atlantica or somewhere else, so we have to keep her here. But the soldiers are busy protecting the people and looking for any sign of Morgana and Ursula, as well as this mystery group they belong to. They can protect her in the castle, but what about if Melody goes outside the castle? Or they have to go somewhere else? Why not find someone whose sole job would be to protect her? Surely there are knights who would be willing to protect her…and the Seahaven Festival is in less than five weeks! The Tournament of Champions attracts people from all over the kingdoms. We would be able to find the best man on the eastern shores for the job."

Eric nearly slapped himself in the head. He had completely forgotten about the Seahaven Festival in the madness of the past few days. It was a massive event that was held every two years. People from all over the alliance kingdoms came to the festival. Food, drink, crafts, music, dancing, and games were never in short supply. Nor was merriment, laughter, camaraderie, or good will towards a fellow man. Travelers told stories to entranced crowds of lands far away, while entertainers put on shows of acrobatics, plays, and magic. Contests ranging from archery to livestock to dancing were abundant. Ariel had managed to catch the tail end of it when she first came onto land. It had mesmerized her beyond words-not that she could have spoken since she had sold her voice in exchange for legs.

The biggest attraction was by far the Tournament of Champions. It was a five-part tournament that attracted warriors from all over the eastern continent. Men competed against each other in archery, obstacle courses, fencing, boxing, and feats of strength. Knights, soldiers, instructors, and wanderers from far and wide would come to test their skills against each other. If they made it through the five qualifying rounds they were able to compete in the champion's round in the Royal Arena. It was a tournament held in front of the royal family and throngs of ecstatic spectators. Warriors would fight each other to the fullest -with non-lethal means, of course- in paired matches until only one remained. The final victor was given the honor of being named champion and a generous prize. Ariel had always thought the tournament was a bit brutish with all the men fighting each other, but now it seemed to hold a new spark of hope for her.

Eric looked at Ariel with a renewed sense of awe and respect. He was inwardly kicking himself for forgetting that beneath the bright, caring, beautiful, and charming mermaid-turned-woman that was his wife beat the heart of a true queen. Ariel could play politics as well as any man when she wanted to. However, that did not stop him from pointing out a major flaw in her plan. "But how can we confirm that the person we would choose is not an assassin in disguise, or that he would actually protect Melody?"

Ariel's enthusiasm fell. She had not considered that. It would be easy enough to find a good guardian at the festival, but they had no way of knowing if he would be loyal or not, let alone an agent of Morgana. They had no means of ensuring that their choice would not betray them to the enemy.

"I think I may have an answer to that," said Triton, now sharing in Ariel's hope as well. "When I was a young merman Atlantica was not as peaceful as it is now. The soldiers had special crystals they used for interrogations. You held one in both hands as you spoke and it would reveal if you were honest or not. If you told the truth the crystal turned white, and if you were lying it turned black. I used to sneak them out of the soldier's quarters for games of truth or dare with my friends. In fact, that is how Ariel's mother and I fell in love." A nostalgic daze clouded Triton's eyes as he remembered that fateful night.

Ariel raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "You and mom fell in love over a game of truth or dare?"

Triton snapped out of memory lane. "Another time, perhaps. Anyway, after so many years of peace the soldiers had no use for them anymore and gave them to me as a gift. I know that if I dug around in my office I could find them again." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, Sebastian and Urchin would definitely appreciate having those."

"Are they foolproof?" asked Eric.

"I would bet the trident on it," assured Triton. "They are completely infallible. I do not know where the soldiers got them from, but neither sea witch nor trident magic works on them. Ursula tried to cheat them when I was deciding on her banishment. We all know how that ended for her."

"This could work," said Eric, a tone of excitement growing in his voice as he spoke. "This could really work. We could be much more at ease knowing that someone is watching out for Melody at all times. The best warriors in the land will be coming to the tournament. I've seen masters there that could take on thirty men single-handedly. I don't know about fighting sea witches, but against assassins at least..." Eric rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and then gave an enthusiastic nod. "We'll do it. I'll have the purse raised this year to see if we can attract more competitors, and I'll have a few changes made to the preliminaries to sort out the very best. I'll go make the changes right away!"

He took off towards the castle, but then stopped and rushed back to Ariel. He scooped her into his arms and planted a deep kiss on her lips, making her head spin with delight. His kiss always had that effect on her. "Ariel, you are truly magnificent!" He righted her back onto her feet before turning to Triton. "Your majesty," he said, giving a hasty bow before running back to the castle, leaving a spellbound Ariel and confused Triton and Scuttle standing at the pavilion. "Let me know when you want to bring my sisters-in-law here!" he called back to them just before disappearing over the top of the stairs.

"Is he always like that when he gets excited?" asked Triton.

Ariel touched her lips absentmindedly, still enraptured by the kiss. When had she last felt that excitement from him, or seen that boyish enthusiasm in his eye? Her heart was fluttering in her chest. "Did you say something, daddy?"

Triton chuckled. "I will take that as a yes."

The fog began to thin around them. A beam of sunlight broke through the gray veil, illuminating the merman, seagull, and woman in a ray of warmth. Ariel shielded her eyes as she looked up. The fog was burning off, revealing the bright, blue, endless sky above them. There were still dangers out there that they would eventually have to face, but for this one moment she felt that there was a ray of hope for them amidst the new threats.

* * *

Out in the far reaches of the ocean, Morgana's hope was quickly disappearing. She swam down a polished stone corridor lined with glowing white shells. The ambiance of the halls was haunting. The shells cast such faint light that shadows flickered between each one. It was like something out of a ghost story.

Morgana had changed since she was unfrozen. Her hair and skin where white as snow. Her eyes had an icy blue tint to them, as cold and deadly as she was. The spots on her arm were gone, and her features had been softened. Her angular chin had become more rounded, and her nose was smaller and more feminine. Her lips were blood red, and the large mole that had once marred her face was little more than a beauty mark. She bore little resemblance to the witch that had terrified the merfolk seven years ago. You could call her attractive if you could get past the black tentacles and the cruel, ruthless personality.

Morgana was shivering slightly as she swam. It was not the chill in the water that caused her to quiver. The Master had summoned her. This was beyond bad. Bad was getting kicked out of her resurrection spell and failing her self-appointed mission. Having the Master find out about her plan was something far worse. He must have discovered her plan, but how? She had been so careful to cover her tracks. The canyon had been so dark that not even creatures spawned in the abyss could see there. Her own viewing spells had been unable to see into there. The sharkanians were two of her own personal guards she had full control over. And she had not taken any of the materials from the stocks here at their fortress. So how?

"You're late as usual."

Morgana came out of her thoughts to see Ursula materialize out of the darkness like a phantom. The witch had also changed since that fateful day when a little mermaid traded her voice for human legs, although hers was not as drastic a transformation. Her dark gray skin had lost its purplish tinge. She was now as lean as Morgana. Her face was closer to what she looked like as the human Vanessa, but her gray eyes were even crueler. Her six black tentacles snaked lazily over the floor. A large scar was visible on her midriff where the ship's prow had impaled her. The golden nautilus necklace was missing from her neck.

Morgana frowned. "You're annoying as usual. What are you doing here?"

Ursula's smile faded. "Same as you I imagine. The Master called for me out of the blue." She pushed off the wall, crawling upwards until she hung upside down in front of her sister. "This is your fault. If you weren't so fixated on showing off and rushing things the plan would have gone perfectly."

"My fault!?" snapped Morgana. "How was I supposed to know that your little ornament had the same transformation spell you used to seduce Eric? Did it not occur to you that humans have a thing called memory? If the brat hadn't lost his cool then Ariel or that geriatric old windbag was definitely going to notice her."

"If you had bothered to check then you would have noticed that! It's simple sorcery know-how to check for things like that!" spat Ursula, swimming back into an upright position. "Honestly, sometimes it amazes that you even learned magic at all. No wonder mother had no faith in you."

Morgana clenched her fist. "Shut up, you sun-bleached piece of kabob meat."

Ursula narrowed her eyes dangerously. She looked as though she was about to say something, but instead she turned down the corridor and started swimming. Another large scar was visible in the middle of her back where the prow had exited her body. "Get moving. We really will be late if we lurk around here any longer."

The corridor began to open upwards and outwards as they swam. Then it suddenly flared out into a massive chamber filled with evenly spaced giant black columns, each as big around as a ship's mast and two hundred feet apart. Morgana looked up to see darkness stretching above them, the water's surface as smooth as glass. They continued through the room as though walking through a burned forest, the columns like the blackened trunks of ancient trees after a fire. The gloom stretched out into an infinite nothingness like a night on the open ocean.

They kept swimming for what seemed an eternity, even thought it was only a few minutes. Morgana was beginning to wonder if they had somehow gotten lost when a large set of stone stairs appeared in the gloom. The steps rose quickly out of the water towards a pale flickering light. She grabbed her arm to stop the quaking that was spreading through her as she and Ursula ascended the steps. She had no way of knowing what awaited them above the water, but she knew it would all depend on her playing the part. Her best bet would be to play dumb and hope for a miracle. Steeling her nerves she followed her sister above the water's surface.

Morgana found herself looking across the black marble surface of a large raised square floor. The floor was as wide as it was long, stretching a hundred feet in either direction. The stairs she had been climbing went two steps above the water before joining with the floor. A pair of white flames in copper basins burned at the edges of a large circular pool twenty feet across. The pool was jet black, completely devoid of reflections or glare from the torches. The light from the torches illuminated the floor with ghostly pale light, yet the illumination failed to extend out into the darkness around them, as though the shadows were devouring the light. The water surrounding the floor stretched outwards in all directions, the columns repeating into the darkness. She looked back, hoping to see the entrance where she had just come from, but only a fathomless black void greeted her. The lights that had guided them had been extinguished.

It was not the room that had Morgana's attention though. It was who was with them.

A figure in a hooded robe stood facing the pool with its back to them. Its arms hung loose at its sides, hands clothed in cracked black leather gloves. Its robe was a shifting array of blacks, dark blues, and inky purples that melded into the marble as though it was trying to materialize through the floor. It stood a full foot taller than her. It was completely motionless, devoid even of the rise and fall of the shoulders that accompanied breathing.

Morgana looked over to Ursula. The witch's eye was twitching, something she only did when she was scared. Morgana was fighting to keep her own trembling from showing. This was the one she was so afraid of. This was the one she had been hiding from in the canyon to complete her revenge. This was her savior and her worst nightmare.

This was the Master.

Morgana bowed low, giving a faint smile. "We have arrived as you request-."

Suddenly invisible hands clasped around Morgana's throat and dragged her forward. The grip on her throat was like a vice, cutting off her ability to breathe completely. She saw Ursula clutching at her own throat out of the corner of her eye as she was dragged along, tentacles latching onto the stones in resistance. Morgana did the same, hoping to anchor herself down. Instantly the grip tightened so hard that she thought her head would pop off. The two witches were hauled off the ground and thrown across the black pool, landing hard on their stomachs on the other side.

"I should kill the two of you right now," growled the Master. The male voice was menacing, hollow, and definitely angry. Morgana looked back at the Master. There was no face under his hood. All she saw was a black empty space with a pair of electric blue pinpricks of light staring at them. She could almost feel the rage and hatred radiating from them. She started to get up when a tremendous weight pinned her to the floor. It felt like she was under one of the columns, the bones in her body creaking under the strain. Yet when she looked out the corner of her eye she saw nothing to account for the crushing pressure.

Morgana was in trouble and she knew it. However, like all cowards and liars she thought there was a way for her to get out of it. "What are you talking about? What have we done to deserve this?" gasped Morgana, clinging to some hope that she could still weasel her way out of the direction of the Master's wrath.

"Do you take me for a blind imbecile?" demanded the Master. He waved his hand at the witches. Morgana felt herself being turned to face the black pool. The master waved his hand again and the darkness receded from the center of the pool to reveal an image. Morgana watched in horror as the pool showed her talking to the two sharkanian soldiers. There was no noise, but she could remember the words she had spoken as she explained the plan to them. She handed them her sister's necklace and a vial of green fluid, and then the sharkanians bowed and swam out of the picture. Any hope Morgana had of escaping blame-free went up in smoke.

"You took it!" shouted Ursula, a look of fake surprise on her features. "I should have known that you would steal my magic for your own purposes!" She turned towards the Master, her face becoming as pleading as it was pale. "She's always been taking my spells and using them for her own. She's been this way since we were fry."

Morgana shot a lethal glare at her sister. She should have expected this from Ursula, but it still made her blood boil to have the witch turn traitor on her at the first sign of trouble. She would have strangled Ursula herself if she could move.

The image faded to black, and then a new image appeared. Ursula and Morgana appeared outside the canyon Morgana had been hiding in. Ursula was wearing her golden nautilus necklace. The two chatted for a moment, and then Ursula took her necklace off and handed it to Morgana. The words 'kill,' 'vengeance,' and 'Melody' were readable from her lips as she spoke. Then she turned and swam out the side of the image.

It would have seemed impossible for Ursula's face to lose any more color in its whitened state. Yet she actually turned a full shade whiter as she watched the image in the pool. She had been caught lying straight to the Master's face. There was no way for her to get out of this. Whatever punishment the Master originally had planned would now be ten times worse.

The Master waved his hand over the pool. The image disappeared as the water returned to its blackened state. "Did I order either of you to kill the princess?"

"No," answered Morgana.

"Did I permit either of you to send your guards to assassinate her?"

"No," answered Ursula.

"Did I give either of you permission to make any plans of your own, or use any spells?"

Sweat started to form on the witch's foreheads. "N-No."

The Master pointed his hands at the witches and snapped his fingers. Instantly jagged ice crystals formed across Morgana's left arm and began spreading over her body. Her skin turned black as frostbite set in. Lightning danced across Ursula's body, sections of her skin smoking as the electricity burned her. The sea witches howled in agony, writhing under the pressure pinning them to the floor, tentacles beating against the black marble.

"Then why is it I watched Ursula give you her shell pendant so that you could send two of your sharkanians to Seahaven disguised as humans with orders to kill Princess Melody? And then I watch Prince William come back to life and speak to them with your voice using a spell that I taught you, only to have someone break the nightmare spell and seize the boy's soul from you?" asked the Master, his voice remaining forcefully calm and flat amidst the screams. He snapped his fingers again and the spells dissipated. The lightning ceased on Ursula and the ice crystals crumbled off Morgana, their skins slowly returning to normal.

"I-I can explain," stammered Morgana.

The Master snapped his fingers and the torture resumed, sending the witches back into their newly discovered Hells.

"I do not want your explanations or reasons," said the Master as he floated towards Morgana across the pool. His cloak dragged over the surface of the water as though it was solid. The Master reached the other side and leaned over her, the blue lights staring down from the bottomless black pit of his hood. "And I could care less about your personal vendettas. I decide when you attack and when you retreat; when you eat and when you starve; when you live and when you die."

The Master stopped their spells. He wanted their minds here instead of focusing on the pain...for now. "Your orders were clear, Morgana. Torture the princess in her sleep until she breaks. Then move on to her family. That was it. No attacks, no thievery, no other spells. Instead you made your own botched assassination plot behind my back. Because of you the merfolk and humans are now scouring the seas for us, and someone has completely blocked off Melody's mind to us."

"They haven't found us yet," wheezed Morgana, fighting to look up at her tormentor and regain her breath. "What makes you think they'll find us now?" The Master's eyes flared. The pressure on Morgana seemed to double, forcing her face into the floor.

"They were not looking for us before," hissed the Master. "They did not even know we existed until you went and shot your mouth off in front of Triton and his land-dwelling family. Thanks to your ostentatious display every human and merfolk soldier out there is looking for us, not to mention this unknown sorcerer that broke the nightmare spell and took William's soul. Do you have any idea how much you have set my plans back, or what sort of enemy you could have made for us?" The pressure focused onto one spot in the middle of Morgana's back, making her cry out. It felt like a vertebra was about to crack.

The Master turned on Ursula. Ropes of lightning were still racing over her skin with the remnants of the spell. Smoke rose from her body as though she had been doused with boiling water. "And you! I expected more of someone with your talents, Ursula. You are supposed to be finishing my army, but instead you go and take part in your sister's meddling. It is no wonder that the best you have presented me with recently is a pile of grotesque hybrids, mutilated corpses, and defective monstrosities."

"Not entirely defective, sir," said a female voice from the darkness. The Master turned to the stairs where Morgana and Ursula had come from. A woman emerged from the water. She rose without the slightest ripple, gliding onto the platform with the faintest of footsteps like a ghost. She wore a dark blue robe with the hood pulled up, golden vine designs embroidered into the hems. The water seemed to vanish from her clothes without a single drop falling to the floor. "She did provide us with Riptide, even if it was by mistake. I think he's a significant improvement over those worthless eels and rays they called pets. What were their names? Flunk, Jettison, Clunk, and... Digger, I think it was?"

The Master stood up, ignoring the moans and groans of the witch sisters as they remained pinned to the floor. "Ah, Remora. At least someone here knows how to follow orders. Did things go as planned?"

Remora pulled back her hood with fair female hands. There was no face to see because it was hidden behind a gold mask. The mask was almost featureless except for two black eye holes and a grinning crescent for a mouth. Her breathing was tinged with a metallic resonance from the mask. Her radiant straight blonde hair was pulled back over her shoulders, descending underneath the cloak. "The pirates have agreed to follow you, Master," answered Remora as she gave a courteous bow. "The entire pirate force of the western shores is now at your command."

"As expected of my second-in-command. And those who refused to join?"

The sound of something very large breaching the water's surface echoed through the chamber. A shadow was visible moving in the darkness, just far enough in the black that its form could not be distinguished. Suddenly a single massive yellow eye appeared behind Remora, well over four times her height. "They will be joining us as well, Master," said a raspy serpentine voice, "although they will be considerably less 'animated' in their opposition from now on." The monster chuckled, the sounds echoing through the chamber.

"Excellent," said the Master. "I'll make sure to have something special sent for your dinner tonight, Riptide." There was a sound of teeth gnashing in the darkness. Riptide was already looking forward to his next meal.

The Master turned his attention back to Morgana and Ursula. "Now that leaves me with what to do with you useless sacks of mud. You need reminding of who is in charge here." He flicked his hands upwards. Morgana and Ursula rose into the air, clutching at their throats again as the invisible hands resumed strangling them. The tips of their tentacles were barely out of reach of the ground. "So clear the seawater out of your ears and listen, you shipworm riddled excuses for sea witches. You serve me, not your own interests. You are not my partners, my comrades, or even my servants." The pressure around Morgana's throat tightened further, causing her to struggle even harder. "You are my slaves, and I will do with you as I see fit."

The Master snapped his fingers. A pair of red papers with black cursive writing flew out from the sleeve of his robe. The signatures of Morgana and Ursula marked separate pages. The writing read: 'I pledge my soul and freedom in exchange for the powers bequeathed unto me by my Master, and to serve him unconditionally until his plans are completed in full.'

"I have your souls and your freedom until I am victorious," said the Master coldly. "That is our arrangement, and I am free to change it as I see fit. I brought you both back from the dead because your skills were of use to me. If they cease to be so, then I will return you both to the darkness I dragged you out of." The Master lowered his hands, dropping Morgana and Ursula unceremoniously to the floor. They lay on the ground gasping for air. "You will both remain here and await my instructions. If you so much as think of making a snack without my orders, I will cut off your tentacles, cook them over a spit, and feed them back to you before I make you Riptide's next meal. Is that clear?"

"Understood..." moaned Morgana as she staggered upright. Ursula was still on her stomach gasping for breath.

"Understood, what?"

Morgana glared at the Master. She would have loved to snap back at him or throw a spell at his head right then, but she knew better. He had complete control over her, and he was far more powerful that either she or Ursula had ever been. Even Triton may not have been a match for him. She stood no chance. She bowed low, never taking her eyes off him. "Understood...my Master," she said through clenched teeth, the last word dripping with venom.

The Master stared at her for a moment, considering whether or not to reprimand her for her tone. Then he turned back towards the pool. "Get out of my sight before I change my mind. And take your sister with you."

Morgana staggered over and grabbed her sister's arms with her tentacles, hoisting her up until she could get one of her arms around her shoulder. She cast one more hateful glance at the Master's back, and then turned to the water. She glanced at Remora and Riptide as she descended the stairs. The monster's giant eye followed them with predatory interest. She could tell that Remora was grinning smugly behind her mask.

"Bottom feeder," muttered Morgana just before her head slipped under the water.

"Hack," replied Remora as the sea witches disappeared. Remora turned back to the Master. "Why do you keep those witches around? They're washed-up magicians with antiquated spells and that will turn coward the moment things swing against their favor. They would better serve us as spell ingredients or workers."

The Master clapped his hands twice. A multitude of bones from humans, merfolk, and strange creatures of the sea rolled out of the water and began to converge in front of him. The bones arranged themselves with skeletal clacking sounds until they became what was unmistakably a throne.

"They have their uses," said the Master as he sat. "Ursula's talent for body transformation spells has yielded some results, as Riptide can attest to." The giant eye blinked again in acknowledgement, a low hiss filling the cavern. "As for Morgana, she makes for a useful chess piece in my game. What she lacks in power she makes up for in cunning. She may very well have gotten away with her plan if she had been more careful. What they lack in power they make up for in deception. They know how to manipulate people's desires to their designs, and that makes them useful for expanding our influence." The Master waved his hand. The red papers appeared in front of him again. "As long as I have these, those two cannot raise a finger against me. Not that they were ever a match for me in the first place." He waved his hand again and the papers disappeared back into his sleeve.

"There is no one who can match you on the land or sea, Master," said Riptide. The Master secretly smirked beneath his hood.

Remora walked to the edge of the pool and knelt on one knee, head bowed down obediently. "What are your orders, sir?"

The Master clasped his hands in thought. "Now that Morgana has revealed our existence to King Eric and King Triton, they will be looking for us. We have not stayed hidden this long by being lax, but we will need to move with more caution now. Cease all activity within Seahaven kingdom. Have our agents and spies blend in until I give further instructions. If anyone is caught, you are free to dispose of them as you see fit. I want those fools to know as little about us as possible." The Master waved his hand again and the red papers vanished back into his cloak. A picture began to form in the black pool. Ariel, Triton, and Scuttle were visible on the pavilion, watching as the first rays of sunlight burned through the fog.

"What do you think their next move will be?" asked Remora, watching the queen hug her father goodbye and head back towards the castle. Scuttle took a few awkward jumps before launching off the side of the pavilion, heading back to his lookout.

"Triton knows he cannot keep Ariel and Melody safe anymore. He is old and feeble. His powers will be stretched enough as it is to protect his kingdom. He also thinks that Morgana and Ursula are roaming free in the ocean, so he will send his daughters onto land where he thinks it is safe. As powerful as he is, he fears them." The Master chuckled amusedly. "The fool is just gathering his most prized possessions into one place for us. As for the little queen and her hubby, they will prioritize the safety of the princess above all else. They will not risk sending her to Atlantica. Ariel will not allow her daughter to be sent somewhere outside the kingdom either. Nor will they reconstruct the sea wall. They learned from experience that the wall is as useless at keeping danger out as it is keeping their daughter in."

Riptide hissed in agreement. "So what do you think they will do?"

"The next logical step is to find someone to watch over her," said the Master. "A body guard affords her protection at all times while allowing her some freedom. There is a festival there in five weeks with a fighter's tournament. Eric will no doubt raise the prize money to attract more competitors. It will provide the perfect opportunity for them to select a strong guardian."

"What about the sorcerer who interfered?" asked Remora. "Surely we cannot allow someone that powerful to go unchecked."

The Master rose from his throne and walked over to the pool. "I will deal with that insect. If he has not interfered with us until now then I doubt he has the ability to hinder us further." The Master held his hand over the black pool. A ball of water rose up to his hand. The ball turned a deep yellow color, and then reformed into a small hexagonal glass vial. "I have a mission for you and Riptide. While I deal with the sorcerer, you will go to the festival and observe the tournament. Report back to me what you see."

"Forgive my interruption, Master," said Riptide cautiously, "but wouldn't it be better to send one of our own to compete in this tournament? Or to force the competitors to serve our cause? It would allow us to keep a blade close to the princess' neck."

"I had considered it," said the Master. "But they would not choose this plan if there was not a way for them to detect treachery. Triton will lend them veritas crystals to weed out any assassins or spies." He glided over the pool to stand in front of Remora. "Besides, you will find that the vanquished are fond of vengeance and hate, and those can be powerful aids to us." The Master took Remora's hand and placed the vial in it. "Have Riptide use this to blend in. He would stand out too much in his current form."

The Master turned back to his throne, this time walking along the edge of the pool. "I will let them be for now. No sense in letting their fears stagnate over time. Vengeance may be a dish best served cold, but fear is a dish most flavorful when fresh. In time, they will know what true terror is." The Master chuckled to himself, already anticipating the moment he would bring them all whimpering to their knees. "Now go."

Riptide growled in amusement. Remora laughed quietly, the metallic noise carrying over the still water. "As you wish." She stood and bowed low, smiling wickedly under her golden mask.

* * *

If you were to climb to the top of the highest tower in the Seahaven castle and look east, you would behold a majestic sight. The orchard of cherry trees leading to the castle was in full bloom, creating a blanket of white and pink blossoms that swayed in the breeze like waves on the sea. To the south of the orchard was the marina, filled with ships of all shapes and sizes, brimming with activity and the calls of seagulls. To the north were oak woodlands that extended to the horizon. East of the orchard were the roofs and white walls of the town of Seahaven, named after the kingdom it belonged to. People were the size of ants as they moved about their daily work, the cobblestone streets like small trails beaten into the patchwork of houses and fields. The sounds of people living their lives were a faint buzz that thrummed with life. Fields were golden with wheat, while others were green with grass for livestock. Horses and cattle were dots in their pastures. Gentle breezes made the fields ripple and sway with the fluidity of a pool.

Encircling the town and fields was the Emerald Woods. A dense canopy of oaks, maples, and ash created an ocean of green that rose gradually upward towards the distant White Iron Mountains. Several dirt roads snaked through the forest, a few horse-drawn carriages traveling along them. Farther to the east was a small lake rimmed with cattails and several willows-the same one Eric and Ariel had been serenaded in many years ago. The forest began to climb more steeply as it approached the mountains, transitioning into tall pines, firs, and redwoods. This was the edge of the Howling Forest, a wild and mysterious place few went into. The woods climbed farther still until they reached the base of the White Iron Mountains, the green disappearing into a labyrinth of dark gray snow-capped peaks that stretched out to the horizon. Clouds could be seen over the mountains as a blizzard began to brew.

The traveler walked through the edge of the Emerald Woods towards Seahaven. The hem of its cloak occasionally brushed a stray leaf or twig, creating a faint rustling noise in the leaf litter. Its shemagh and goggles remained where they always had, the sword staying silent at its side from a new elk leather belt. It held a long object wrapped in a deer hide in its left hand while its right swayed freely. The motion of its arms brushed the cloak back, revealing the ragged brown tunic, faded loose black pants, and freshly cleaned white bandages covering its arms. Its pack was slightly fuller than it had been before, now repaired and carrying fresh supplies and water.

Walking in front of the traveler was a pair of enormous dire wolves. Each was five feet tall at the shoulder and over two hundred pounds, far larger than even the largest gray wolf. Their thick gray fur was mottled with whites, blacks, and rusty reds that allowed them to blend into their surroundings like shadows. Their large paws made barely a sound as they walked through the brittle leaves on the ground. Their large ears were perked forwards, clear golden eyes scanning ahead on an unseen path.

Seven days ago the traveler had begun to doubt it would make it this far. The visitor from the storm had been its savior. He had sheltered the traveler from the storm, fed it, given it fresh supplies and some goods to trade with, and then pointed it in the right direction. The dire wolves had been sent with as guides. Travel had been slower since it was following the wolves, but they were in no rush. The traveler enjoyed walking through the forests and taking in the majestic views their route afforded them. Water and food were plentiful in the forest if you knew where to look. The wolves had made for excellent traveling companions, knowing how best to avoid the roads and finding wild game for dinner. The wolves would howl in the night to the other packs, letting them know of their intent to travel through. It truly was the song of the wilds.

The trio reached the edge of the forest. The woods quickly gave way to expansive green pastures behind wooden fences. Horses, sheep, and cattle were grazing on the lush grass, occasionally swatting their tails or throwing their heads at a pesky insect. Several buildings dotted the landscape, and farmers moved about their daily chores. A carriage drove down a winding dirt road towards the clustered buildings of the town, fresh produce rolling about gently in the back. Smoke from chimneys formed gray threads against a sapphire blue sky. Behind the town was the royal castle, the red tile roof and white walls standing out sharply against the evaporating morning fog.

The traveler gave a low whistle of amazement as it surveyed the scene. Places like this were almost unheard of in the eastern kingdoms. Most of the land there was scarred by years of brutal war between warlords and neighboring kingdoms. Only the royals and elites were able to own lands as productive as these, which they used for their personal amusement. Livestock were as thin and emaciated as their starving owners. Towns were havens for the corrupt, the poor, the desperate, and the ever-watchful manipulative. It was almost impossible to go somewhere and not find a gang of bandits or garrison of troops taking advantage of the villagers. Happy farmers instead of cowering slaves and servants worked the fields here. The eastern forests were little more than dead skeletons and gray stumps, the trees all cut down long ago to fuel the fires of conflict. The sky was always tinged yellow or red from the smoke of fires and belching fumes of the war machines, but here it was bright and clear. There were few places back there as heavenly as this place, untouched by the stain of violence and conquest.

A pair of young horses bolted across one of the pastures, relishing the warm sunlight in their youthful exuberance. The ears of the wolves perked up as their predatory instincts urged them to give chase, taking a few cautious steps forward.

"I wouldn't if I were you," said the traveler, picking up on their intention. "They aren't food. A pair of wolves chasing after horses this close to town would not end well for any of us." The wolves lowered their ears submissively and trotted back to the traveler's side. It scratched their heads affectionately, the wolves wagging their tails as they enjoyed the attention.

"So this is Seahaven, eh?" asked the traveler. Both of the wolves nodded. They may not have been able to speak, but they were able to communicate with the traveler surprisingly well. "Right then. I guess this is where we say goodbye."

The wolves whined and sat down, their tails going still. Even sitting down their heads came up to the traveler's chest. They looked like children wondering why they were being left at home when their parents went away for the day. They licked at the traveler's tunic pleadingly.

"Sorry, but you can't come with me," said the traveler. "It's not safe for wolves to go running around in town. There's no telling what the villagers would do to you. Kodama would have my hide if I let you two get hurt. Heck, I don't know what they would do to me for being around you two." The wolves whined louder, not wanting their companion to leave.

"I have a favor to ask of you." The wolves sat down, ears perked up in interest. The traveler unwrapped the object in the deerskin cloth, revealing a long stick of dark wood. The stick was as big around as a tangerine and slightly longer than four feet. It was still as untrained as the forest, bearing small burs, splinters, and other imperfections in its surface. It had been a gift from the traveler's benefactor, magically crafted from the oldest tree in the forest. Nowhere in the eastern kingdoms or the alliance would you find a stronger, harder, more durable piece of wood. The majority of swords would chip against such timber. The traveler lay the stick on the ground and removed the sword from its belt, carefully wrapped the weapon in the hide.

"Could you give this to Kodama?" it asked, holding out the wrapped sword to the wolves. "It belonged to my dad. Tell Kodama it's insurance until I can repay him for his help. Once I can afford to buy something suitable I'll come back for it."

One of the wolves stood up and turned its back to the traveler, then sat down again.

"Put it there?" asked the traveler. The wolf's tail wagged slowly, brushing aside leaves and twigs. The traveler swung off its pack and rummaged inside, extracting a ball of leather cord. It tied a tight loop around one end of the wrapped sword and placed it on the wolf's back. Then it wound the cord around the wolf's front let leg, across its chest, twice around the middle of the sword, and then back under and around the wolf's opposite hind leg before tying it off around the other end of the sword. It was not the best harness, but it would get the job done. The dire wolf stood and shook vigorously, making sure its package would not come loose. The sword moved back and forth but remained secure.

The traveler reached into its pack again. "Here, something for your help." The traveler pulled out a package wrapped in cloth. Immediately the wolves' ears perked forward and they panted in anticipation, tails wagging gleefully at the scent. The traveler pulled off the final wrapping to reveal a dozen large pieces of dried venison. The wolf carrying the sword barked excitedly.

The traveler laughed at the canine's antics. They really were like children at times. "Settle down. There's plenty for both of you" It split the meat into two stacks and held each out for the wolves. Despite their excitement the wolves were delicate as they accepted the reward. Their delicacy disappeared the moment they took it from the traveler's hands, wolfing down the meat with their powerful jaws. The traveler marveled at their large teeth. They could be as dexterous as a hand but still held enough power to break moose bones. Within moments the last of the meat had disappeared down their throats.

"I guess you were hungry," joked the traveler. The wolves stared blankly at it. The traveler knelt down and hugged both wolves close, unafraid of the massive jaws and sharp claws just inches from its vital areas. "You both take care." The wolves whined quietly, licking at the traveler's shemagh. The traveler let go and stood. "Right, off you go then." The wolves bowed their heads in farewell, and then turned and ran silently into the forest with hardly a sound. The traveler watched them go until they disappeared into the trees like ghosts.

Brushing off some wolf hair from its cloak and tunic, the traveler got to its feet and collected its pack. It was about to put the stick through its belt when it thought better of it. This was a strange land the traveler did not understand. Even though Kodama had said this was a place of peace and harmony, he had warned the traveler that even this haven was not without its dangers. The traveler needed a weapon of some sort. The stick was a start, but it was clumsy and ungainly in its current form.

The traveler held the stick in its palms. It formed an image in its mind of what the shape should be. Something familiar and easy to wield, but meant to disable and stun instead of kill. The traveler immediately knew what it wanted. It held the image in its mind, moving the stick so that it was held upright with both hands.

"_Diffingo_." A white flame enveloped the stick, casting a pale glow onto the surrounding trees. The traveler's goggles reflected the firelight like a mirror. The fire burned under the traveler's hands, yet it remained untouched by the flames and unaffected by the heat. The fire disappeared as quickly as it had started, vanishing without even a puff of smoke.

The stick had been reborn. It was now a bokken replica of the traveler's long bladed ninjato, minus the grip and tsuba. The traveler looked down the edge of the bluntly rounded blade. It was arrow straight without a single imperfection in its smooth surface. The dark wood shone with a mirrored polish. The tanto style point ended in a blunted tip that could stab painfully but not pierce skin. The traveler gave the sword a few swings with one hand. It felt no heavier or lighter than its more lethal counterpart, perfectly balanced and completely familiar. It would need something to give it a proper grip, but that could be easily remedied with some leather or sharkskin.

The traveler picked up a fallen log as thick and long as its arm. The traveler gave it a few tosses before throwing it high into the air. The log rose toward the canopy, coming to a zenith just short of the branches above. The traveler slid into a ready stance, holding the bokken at its side as though in a sheath. It watched the log begin its fall back to earth. The traveler remembered training like this with its father as a child. He would toss sticks and rocks into the air for the traveler to strike with its practice sword, just like the one it was wielding now. The traveler could hear him giving instructions from within its memory.

_'Strike through your target, never at it. Relax your mind and body. Let the movements flow from within you_.'

THWACK! The traveler drew the bokken with blinding speed in an upward slash. The wooden blade smashed through the log, sending up a small cloud of dust and wood chips. The split log fell into the leaves with a soft rustle. The traveler looked over the bokken for any sign of damage but found none. The wood was as solid as metal, without so much as a scuff or dimple on it. A quick wipe to remove some dust left by the log and the bokken was flawless once more.

Satisfied with its new weapon, the traveler stuck the bokken through its belt and adjusted its pack. It felt a renewed sense of hope and optimism. No one would come looking for a dead person in this part of the world. The violence of the past was behind it now, thousands of miles away in the eastern kingdoms. This land held the promise of a chance to start over where no one knew whom it was- or what. Here it could be anyone and anything it wanted. No bounty hunters after its head or generals trying to force it into the ranks of their armies. This was the start of a new adventure and a new life. A better life than the one it had left behind.

"Wonder what's in store for me here?" said the traveler to itself. It adjusted its goggles and set off for the road that would lead it to town, unaware of just how large its role in the events to come would be.

* * *

**AN: Things are starting to come together. What will Melody think of her parent's plan to keep her safe? What plans does the Master have for the future? What awaits the traveler in the kingdom of Seahaven****? And who or what is Kodama?**

** (F****or those of you who are wondering, there is no mention of what the above-sea kingdom is called in the movies or the TV series, so I made one up. The name 'Seahaven' seemed appropriate)**

**Thanks to all of you who read, favorite, and/or follow my story. Knowing that you enjoy it so much encourages me to keep writing. As always, your comments/thoughts/constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome. If you spot any mistakes please let me know so I can fix them.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Mermaid or any of its characters. Everything else, however, is mine.**


	7. Chapter 7: The Mermaid's Trove

Chapter 7: The Mermaid's Trove

The depressive gloom began to lift off the coast as the sun burned away the morning fog. The warmth of the sun seemed to saturate people with cheer and kindness. Children began coming out to play or go to school as shopkeepers moved to do business outside on this gorgeous day.

Up in her room, Melody was still in the fog. The room looked as though a battleship's powder magazine had been set off in it. Clothes, jewelry, and other items were scattered over the floor. A pile of unopened presents sat in the corner, a thin layer of dust forming on them. The drawers of her wardrobe were opened to various degrees, bits of clothing hanging out in a tangled jumble. The sheets of her bed were an incomprehensible mess on the floor. The curtains to her cozy window and the balcony were closed shut.

Melody lay in her bed, dressed in her usual camisole and pantalettes. She had been sleeping since she cried herself to sleep last night, well over twelve hours ago. She had gone straight back to the campfire in her dreams. The voice had not spoken to her that night, or on any other night since she first went there. She could not decide if she never wanted to hear the voice again, or wished with all her might that it would talk to her again. She was not sure if she wanted solitude or companionship. She did not really care what she wanted anymore. All she cared about was that when she fell asleep beside that fire, the pain would fade away for a little while.

A small beam of light snuck through the crack in her curtains to splash her face with sunshine. Melody groaned and rolled over to go back to sleep, but she was already starting to wake up. The world came back to her with all its woes and pains. Giving up the fight for sleep, she grabbed her pendant from its resting place next to her bed and slipped it on. It felt wrong to not have it on. She got out of bed and went over to her mirror, eyes barely leaving the floor. She nearly had a heart attack when she looked up at her reflection.

It would not be exaggeration to say she looked as bad as she felt. Her hair was tangled and dull instead of shiny and sleek. She had given up on tying it back, allowing it to hang loose down her back like her mother did. Several rogue strands hung down over her face, refusing to stay hooked behind her ears. Her clothes were heavily wrinkled from continuous days of use. Her pale complexion enhanced the slight gauntness of her face. She had not bathed in three days, lending her skin an oily sheen.

But the most striking difference was her eyes. There was no spark to those ocean blues that used to shine like the sun on the waves. They were as empty and cheerless as she felt inside. Her lids were as heavy as the lines that were developing underneath them. Dark half moons were clear signs of the exhaustive depression she felt.

Melody crawled back into her bed and curled up. She would eventually have to come out of her room and face reality, but she wanted to hold that off for as long as possible. There was no physical pain, yet she had never felt so hurt in her life. It felt like there was a gaping hole in her chest, as though her heart had literally been rent from her. Every breath, every movement of a limb, every thought was an effort, as though her sadness was a terrible weight trying to drag her beneath the earth. She just wanted to sleep for the rest of her life. She wanted to feel numb so that she could not feel the hurt.

A small rectangular white box tied with a yellow ribbon lay at the edge of her bed. Melody grabbed it and held it close to her chest. It was now the most treasured thing William had given her, and she had not even opened it yet. She could not bring herself to, afraid that the act of unveiling his final gift would cause her to break in half. Tears started to flow from her eyes again as she thought about William's final moments. He had been so scared, his eyes pleading with her not to let him leave. Just when they had found a perfect moment together he had been snatched away from her forever. All she had now was the memories, a few small mementos, and a present she could not bring herself to open. She would have traded all of that and more to have him back.

The ringing of the town bell reached her ears. One by one the peals came to her room, stopping after the eleventh. By this time tomorrow William would be buried in his family crypt. The entire royal court would be there, as well as nobles from other kingdoms. But she would not. She would not even be able to send flowers to put on his coffin. King Willard would have her thrown in jail before he allowed her to do anything of the sort. The sadness built in her chest again until it started to overflow in a series of quiet choking sobs, the tears leaking down onto her bed.

There was a soft knocking at her door. "Melody?" It was her mom.

Melody wiped her eyes and sat upright. "Yes?"

"Can I come in? I need to talk to you."

Melody considered asking her to go away, but she could not bring herself to say the words. She did not feel like resisting anything anymore. "Okay."

Ariel came in and closed the door quietly behind her. "Did I wake you?" Melody shook her head. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm just fine," muttered Melody sarcastically, looking at Ariel with an expression that said 'how do you think I'm feeling considering everything that's happened?'

"Right, bad question. Sorry." Ariel went and sat on the edge of her bed. "Are you hungry at all?"

Melody shook her head again. She could not even think about eating right now. Her appetite was almost nonexistent. She scooted over to join her mother on the edge of the bed, still holding the gift in her hands. Her mother pulled a few strands of her black hair behind her ear before gently rubbing her back. It was not much, but her mother's touch made her feel a little better. It reminded her of the campfire.

"What is it you want to talk about?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the floor.

Ariel stopped her rubbing. She was not sure how Melody would take this, but there was only one way to find out. "Your father and I had a discussion with Grandfather this morning. There are some things you need to know about."

* * *

Down in Seahaven the traveler was walking about in wide-eyed amazement. If it had known such a place existed in the world, it would have never gone to the eastern kingdoms in the first place. The cobblestone streets were free of holes and trash. Hand-carved and painted wooden signs hung over the doors of open shops, their wares on display in grime-free windows with no need for protective iron grilles. Grocers and farmers selling their produce lined the streets. The smell of apples, oranges, peaches, and an assortment of other delicious fruits hung in the air. Horse-drawn carriages and carts clattered over the stones in time with the clicking of hooves. Men and women dressed in their best went about their business as children ran laughing between them. It was impossible to go three seconds without hearing someone say hello or greet a friend. The traveler got a few odd stares here and there, but it also got no small number of welcoming 'hellos,' 'good mornings,' and curt nods. Everyone was so cheery and friendly that the traveler wondered if something was literally in the water here.

The only thing reminiscent of the traveler's former stomping grounds was the number of soldiers in the town. There seemed to be an unnecessary abundance of them for such an amicable place. The traveler could barely go a hundred paces without seeing a pair of them. They were dressed in chain mail jackets with blue tabards over the top, brown polished boots, and military berets of the same color as their tabard with a single pheasant feather in the left side. Most carried a spear in hand and a rapier at their side. Several carried long-swords or crossbows with a quiver of grey goose-fletched arrows on their backs. They seemed unusually nervous as well. Their eyes darted from one person to the next every second, as though they were looking for a particular face amidst the throngs of people. One had stopped the traveler when he saw the bokken, but dismissed it after a quick inspection of the weapon revealed its non-lethal nature. The traveler was relieved he had not bothered to check under its cloak. It would have been harder to explain the two knives at the small of its back.

A group of small children raced towards the traveler, oblivious to its presence as they darted through the crowd. The traveler sidestepped the group, allowing them to pass by in their game of chase. The traveler could not remember the last time it had seen children so happy, or healthy for that matter. Orphans were bountiful in the east. Their parents had either abandoned them or died. Most became "street rats" destined to join bandit gangs, be conscripted into private armies, sold as slaves, or meet an early end at whatever hand Death chose to use. There was not a child, adult, or even horse that looked hungry or unwanted here.

The traveler watched as a black haired boy broke off from the group and ran towards a heavyset man with a thick black beard. The resemblance between the two was obvious. The man plucked the boy from the ground, causing him to laugh loudly as he was hoisted onto the man's shoulders. The two set off down the street, father and son both laughing and carefree.

The traveler felt a pang of sadness as it watched them walk away. It reminded the traveler of the days it had spent with its own father. It all seemed so far away and long ago now. The traveler could not remember a time that it had felt so happy or at peace. After everything that had happened since then, the traveler did not know how things could ever go back to the way they were. There was nothing left there. It was the reason the traveler had gone to the east in the first place.

The smell of cooked meat caused the traveler's stomach to growl loudly. The meat it had given the dire wolves was the last of its stock. The traveler was now wishing it had kept a few strips for itself. It reached behind its back and touched a pair of small deer leather bags attached to its belt, well hidden under its cloak. A soft tinkling sound of small stones could be heard. Kodama had given the traveler more than enough "mountain glass" and "river shine" for a bite to eat. He considered them about as useful as dirt clods, so he had been a bit confused when the traveler took only a handful of each. It also had a few eastern coins with it, although it was doubtful that they would hold any value in this kingdom.

The traveler followed the smell up the street to a whitewashed rectangular building with a brown shingle roof. The sign hanging over the oak door read "The Mermaid's Trove" in ornate white painted lettering. There were no windows. A steady trail of white smoke rose from a red brick chimney at the back of the building. The sounds of people enjoying a midday meal over conversation were readily audible through the door.

_'What's a mermaid? Sounds like some sort of bird_,' thought the traveler. As a child its father had told it many stories and accounts of the creatures of the world. There were the griffins that nested in high mountain peaks, cave basilisks that could turn you to stone with one glance, sphinxes that would play games of riddles with wandering persons, and minotaur tribes that roamed the grassy plains far to the south. The oceans teemed with sea serpents that could crush ships with one coil of their bodies, great leviathans that were mistaken for islands, and sirens that lured unsuspecting ships to the rocks before feasting on the unlucky sailors. The traveler shuddered as it remembered the one encounter it had with sirens. It never wanted to hear that much screaming ever again. But mermaids? The traveler had never heard the term from its father's stories, any book, or any mouth in the east.

The smell of food was even stronger now. The traveler was about to open the door when it remembered its bokken. A quick look around the crowd confirmed that people did not walk around with weapons on their hips here. The closest thing it saw to a weapon other than what the guards carried was the walking sticks of several older men. The traveler shifted the bokken further back in its belt, checked that its knives were secure, and then went inside.

The tavern appeared dark for a moment, but then the traveler's eyes started adjusting from the bright day outside. The tavern was at least fifty feet wide and three times as long. The floors, walls, and ceiling were dark mahogany. Several large wooden support pillars ran up the middle of the room. A carved figurehead of a scantily clad woman adorned the pillar closest to the door. She had flowing blonde hair and a blue seashell brassiere. Her body was missing below the waist, clearly sawed off with care when it was removed from whatever ship it had once belonged to. A variety of sailing and fishing materials lined the walls, including nets, harpoons, oars, and glass buoys of a variety of colors. Oil lanterns hanging from the ceiling cast flickering orange light throughout the room. A long bar lined the left side of the room. The shelves behind it were stacked with a plethora of metal mugs and several dusty dark glasses of liquor. Dark wooden tables with checkered blue tablecloths were scattered throughout the room. At the back of the room was a wood door leading to what was presumably the kitchen.

The energy of outside had carried over to inside the tavern. The place was packed with people and filled with the sounds of conversation and eating. Sailors, farmers, craftsman, and local townsfolk sat around the tables enjoying hot meals, friendly games of cards, and sharing news and tall tales. Men stood at the bar with mugs of mead and ale as they conversed with each other. An aging bartender with a thick salt and pepper mustache and equally thick eyebrows was drying out a mug as he talked with a pair of sailors. Four waitresses were bustling through the room with trays of food from the kitchen and drinks from the bar. Each wore a white headscarf and a white apron over their dresses. The sounds of cooks hard at work could be heard from the back.

The bartender quickly noticed the strange new addition to its customers. It put down the mug and walked out to greet the traveler. "Welcome to The Mermaid's Trove, sir," he said in a slow steady tone as he dried his hands off. He had the accent of a seaman. "What can I do for ye?"

"Food and drink," said the traveler, deepening its voice slightly. "And plenty of it."

The bartender chuckled good-naturedly. "Ye've come to the right place then, lad. Ye'll find no shortage of that 'ere. Ye look like someone who's come a long way."

"Indeed." '_You have no idea,_' thought the traveler. The man would think the traveler was pulling his leg if it told him exactly how far it had come, or how long it had taken.

The bartender pointed to an empty table near the right corner of the room. "Take that one there. I'll send Sarah o'er to take yer order. Now, there is the issue of payment." The bartender threw the towel across his shoulder. "Need to ha'e it upfront I'm afraid. Ye know 'ow it is: man comes in fer a drink, gets 'is sea legs on land, and then tries to leave wi'out paying. Not good fer business, ye know?"

The traveler reached into a side pocket on its pack and produced a copper coin. It was an inch wide with five small holes punched around the center. Strange geometric designs were imprinted onto the face. The copper was turning green in several places. "Do you take these?"

The bartender took the coin and examined it curiously. "Ne'er seen one o' these before. Got some weird markings on it, that's fer sure." The bartender tried to bend the coin with its hands, and then gave it back to the traveler. "Sorry. Don't e'en know what it is."

The traveler sighed and put the coin back. It was not surprising that he did not recognize it, but it was also reassuring. It was a good sign that people rarely came here from the east. It reached into the pouch of "mountain glass" on its belt and grasped one. "Will this do instead?"

The bartender leaned in to see what the traveler had. His jaw nearly hit the floor when the traveler opened his hand. The traveler held a ruby the size and shape of a small bird's egg in its palm. Its surface was polished to a glassy sheen. The gem gleamed in the faint light like a droplet of blood.

"Sir, I…I can't…it's too much!" stammered the bartender, trying to keep his voice down. "You could buy twenty rounds of drinks fer the room on a good night with that! Maybe e'en more!"

The traveler grasped the bartender's hand. "I'll be sticking around for a long time," it said as it put the jewel in his palm. "Think of it as a forward payment on future meals."

The bartender stared at the ruby for a moment, considering whether or not to accept it, and then pocketed the jewel. "I'll start a tab for ye then. Sarah!" One of the waitresses looked up from the table she was serving to see the bartender waving her over. She quickly put the food down and hurried over.

The traveler quickly looked her over. She could not have been older than twenty-three at most. She had wavy brunette hair that seemed constrained by her headscarf. She wore a simple drab green dress with long sleeves under her apron. Her heart-shaped face was slightly thin, and there were tired lines under her chocolate brown eyes. The skin of her face was looked as though she did not see the sun very often. Her dress had signs of repairs in the skirt and sleeves.

"You called, John?" said Sarah. There was weariness in her otherwise sweet voice.

"Show this gentleman to the table at the back. And get 'im some of our best ale."

Sarah nodded politely. "Of course." She turned to the traveler. "Right this way, Mister...?"

"Hood," blurted the traveler. "Just Hood."

Sarah smiled kindly at 'Hood,' but her wariness and curiosity showed plainly on her face. "If you'll follow me then, Mister Hood."

The traveler followed Sarah through the crowded floor to the table. The traveler pulled out a chair next to the wall and sat down, placing the bokken and pack within easy reach. It doubted that a fight was likely here since the tavern bore none of the scars of a barroom brawl, but it never hurt to be cautious. The seat afforded it a clear view of the room all the way to the front door.

Sarah eyed the weapon curiously. "If you don't mind my asking, what is that?"

"It's called a bokken," said the traveler. It picked up the wooden sword and held it for the waitress to examine. "It's a type of training sword we use back home. All the functionality of a sword, but minus the sharp parts so we don't go chopping important bits off each other."

The curious waitress ran her hands over the wood. It was incredibly smooth. "It's beautiful," she said, admiring the dark wood and lines from tree rings in the surface. "Anyway, can I get you something to eat?"

The traveler looked around the room for the tastiest looking item. Men were eating everything from fish to pork to large cuts of roasted beef. A particularly pleasant aroma drew its attention to a man eating a dish of pot roast with potatoes, carrots, and onions. "I'll have what he's eating," it said, nodding its head towards the man.

The waitress nodded curtly. "Coming right up. I'll have your drink out in a few minutes." With that she turned to go, but the traveler grabbed her wrist. Sarah quickly stopped, her face now showing slight concern. "Is there something else?"

"When was the last time you had a proper meal?" asked the traveler.

Sarah's eyes went wide with surprise. "Excuse me?"

"When?" The traveler stared into her eyes through its goggles, its voice firm but not demanding. It could feel a slight tremble coming into Sarah's wrist. It was so slender its fingers and thumb was completely encircling it. The traveler held her like a fish, tight enough she could not escape but not so strong that it would cause her pain. "I know a lot of women try for a slender look, but there's a difference between being slender by choice and slender because you're hungry."

The waitress was silent for a long pause. Then her stomach growled loudly. She turned her face down to hide the embarrassed flush in her cheeks. "Three days ago," she answered sheepishly. "But John let's me have some of the leftovers to take home sometimes. It's not so bad."

"Thought as much," muttered the traveler. It reached back into the bag of "river shine." This one held a soft metal that Kodama picked out of the mountain streams and rivers. He had a strong dislike of the metal because of its tendency to attract large numbers of men, so he tried to remove as much of it as possible. The traveler grabbed a small piece and put it in Sarah's hand. The waitress gasped loudly when she saw a pea-sized nugget of pure gold in her palm.

"Is that...?"

"Shhh," whispered the traveler as it let go of her wrist. "Yours to keep."

Sarah picked up the gold piece, eyeing it with amazement. It sparkled beautifully in the lamplight, her fascination evident in her eyes. She looked back at the traveler. "But...why?"

"I hate to see a lady go hungry. Besides, I need someone to fill me in on-."

The tavern door swinging open with a loud bang interrupted the traveler. The entire room looked to see three men enter. Two were enormous stocky giants with shoulders as wide as the door and faces just as square. They were easily pushing seven feet tall. Each had to duck as they came through the entrance. They wore red shirts and black pants, complete with polished brown leather swashbuckler boots. One was bald and clean-shaven with a jagged scar over his left eye, while the other had a thick red beard and head of hair to match. A small dirk was stuck in each of their belts. The knives looked like toys on their frames.

It was the man between them, however, that immediately had the traveler's attention. He stood no higher than the other men's shoulders, but his presence was much more intense. He was dressed in a red and gold patterned doublet beneath a white jacket with lace frills at the cuffs. His white pants were as spotless as his black leather boots. A polished steel rapier with an intricately engraved guard and a ruby in the pommel hung from a black leather belt with an ornate gold buckle. A pair of worn fencing gloves was tucked through the side of his belt. His shaven effeminate face put him at his mid twenties, but he carried himself like someone much older. His wavy strawberry blonde hair fell to his shoulders. He looked the very definition of a nobleman.

It was his eyes, however, that told a different story. The traveler had vision superior to any hawk or falcon. Even through its dark goggles and the slight gloom of the tavern it could make out the man's green eyes. They were as cold and ruthless as the metal of his sword. They looked out across the room, judging everyone before it as inferior and distasteful. The traveler had seen those eyes in bandits, dark sorcerers, and evil kings. They were the eyes of a predator, and the worst kind-a predator that feeds on the weak. The traveler assumed that the two giants flanking him were his bodyguards.

An immediate hush fell over the tavern. The mood turned from pleasantly vibrant to uncomfortably tense. Several of the patrons got up and headed for the door, giving the men a wide berth as they went past. If the men noticed them then they gave no indication.

The nobleman stepped forward. "John!" he barked. His voice had an unpleasant strength to it, as though it was perfectly comfortable at giving orders to people.

The bartender nervously jogged around the bar to greet his 'guests.' "Lord Richard! Uh...what can I do for ye on this fine day?" he said nervously, his hands cleaning the mug in his hands with unusual vigor. The traveler did not remember his back being hunched so low.

Richard, as the traveler guessed he was named, looked down at John over his nose. "A table."

"C-Certainly, sir. Right this way." The bartender quickly scampered over to a table near the end of the bar and began hurriedly wiping it down as Richard approached. John scrambled to pull out Richard's chair for him as he sat down. His men sat on opposite sides of him. "Something to drink or eat, yer lordship?"

"Roast boar," said Richard flatly, refusing to look John in the eye. "And have Sarah bring the food. You're better suited to the bar where I can't see you."

The traveler noticed Sarah stiffen at hearing her name. Her hands were visibly shaking now, and her face had gone a shade paler. It did not take a stretch of the imagination for the traveler to see that she was afraid of him. Or was that contempt causing her to shake? She looked to the traveler, her eyes both angry and pleading at the same time. No, that was definitely contempt.

"I'm afraid Sarah is preoccupied at the moment," said John, "but I would be more than 'appy to serve ye personally."

The bald man grabbed John roughly by the collar and pulled him within inches of his face. "Did the boss ask for your service, grandpa?" he growled, his voice as unfriendly as the dagger at his side.

John looked as though he was about to cry. "N-n-no, sir."

The bald man tossed John towards the bar, nearly causing the man to fall over as he stumbled to get his balance. "Then get the girl and get your ugly mug out of our sight!" Richard smirked slightly as he watched the terrified bartender run towards Sarah.

The traveler clenched its fist tightly as John hurried towards them. It was no stranger to seeing things like this in the east. Taverns there were hotbeds for extortionists, and tavern owners and their staff quickly learned to keep their heads low. It was one of two reasons why the traveler avoided such places in the eastern kingdoms. Whoever this Richard person was, the traveler was already sure he was not as noble of a man as his appearance would have you believe.

John practically skidded to a stop in front of them. "Sarah..."

"No!" she hissed, shaking her head vigorously. "I won't do it! You know he does this just to torment me! Get someone else!"

"I know, lass," he said apologetically, "but he only wants ye. What can I do? The man could 'ave this place shut down on a whim before the week's out. We can't lose this place. I've got kids of my own to feed."

"I'm waiting on that food," said Richard loudly. John winced as though he had been struck.

"Yes, sir! Just one moment!" he called back, a fake smile across his features. He whipped back to face Sarah. "Please! I wouldn't ask o'erwise."

Sarah looked over John's shoulder to the men. Richard gave her a sickeningly smug smirk. The traveler saw her lip curl slightly in disgust. "Fine," she muttered dejectedly. She pocketed the gold into her apron pocket before marching through the kitchen door.

"Who is mister high-and-mighty over there?" asked the traveler, nodding towards Richard.

John leaned in close to the traveler. "That's Lord Richard of the Avite family," he whispered nervously as he wiped down the traveler's table. "Member of the king's court, though how he stays in it is be'ond me. Owns a big tract of land sou'east of 'ere. Don't let the fine threads fool ye. The man's got the charm of a fox, greed of a raven, and cleverer than both put toge'er."

"What's the story with him and Sarah, if you don't mind my asking?"

"You didn't 'ear it from me, but Sarah's father took a loan from 'im about two years ago," replied John. "Poor man ran into one misfortune after another. Lost most o' his fishing fleet, business partners ran out, and then took ill. He fell be'ind on what he owed and Sarah had to pick up the slack. Richard's been sapping away at them e'er since. He's got a covetous eye for the lass, too."

The traveler looked back at Richard. The man was staring at the kitchen door like a cat watching a mouse hole. "Why doesn't anyone do something?"

"Ye think we don't want to?" hissed John. "Richard's got pull with the right people. Everyone that's stood up to 'im 'as wound up broke, indebted, or forced to leave. Not to mention he's-."

John stopped as the kitchen door opened. Sarah came through with three plates of roast boar, mashed potatoes, and bread. Her jaw was clenched as tight as her footsteps. Richard's eyes followed her with predatory interest. John let her walk past before returning to the bar. The traveler felt like it was watching two carriages headed for a collision. John quickly returned with a mug of ale. "I'm sorry ye 'ave to see this, lad. I really am," he whispered before leaving again.

The traveler leaned back in its chair, affording it a slightly better view of Richard's table. It was about to pull down its shemagh when it thought better of it. The place needed a little less light before it went revealing parts of its face.

'_Attenuo_,' it whispered quietly. The flames in the lanterns slowly weakened, casting the tavern into a faint gloom. Satisfied that it would be harder to see in the faint light, the traveler pulled down the shemagh from its mouth and quickly raised the mug. It swallowed down the bitter dark liquid with five large gulps. Alcohol had no effect on the traveler. The ale would also provide more sustenance than plain water could. The traveler set down the mug and pulled the shemagh back over its face, returning its attention to Sarah and Richard. It focused on their voices, letting its inhuman hearing pick out their conversation amidst the multitude of hushed voices.

"Ah, Sarah," said Richard, smiling with false enthusiasm. "What a pleasure to see you again. You look lovely as usual."

Sarah avoided looking into his eyes. "I know why you're here, Richard. My answer is still no."

"Why, whatever do you mean?" asked Richard with mock offense. "I merely come here for the food and ambiance. I find it most...enriching." He said the last word with a cruel pleasure in his voice.

The bearded man looked up from his food, bits of gravy in his beard. "Really, boss? I thought you said this place was a du-." The man flinched as Richard kicked his shin under the table, the nobleman's expression never wavering. The man went back to eating his food in silence.

"I'm sure you do," said Sarah accusingly. "You've gotten a lot of amusement driving my father to the brink of poverty."

Richard shrugged his shoulders. "What can I do? As I've told you before, your father and I had an agreement. I'm not the one to blame for his misfortunes. I would rather not, but if he cannot make the payments, then I have to take something to make sure our contract is met. He's not the only one losing money on the loan, you know."

"We lose more than money to you," snapped Sarah. "We barely have enough to keep ourselves fed or a roof over our heads."

Richard smiled up at her. "Well, I'm sure we could come to some sort of an agreement on that," he said, reaching for her hand. The traveler recognized that tone in his voice. Beneath the veneer of cultured nobility was a truly sick mind. It had a fairly good idea what Richard wanted with Sarah, and it was not afternoon tea.

Sarah stepped out of Richard's reach. "This conversation is over. We'll pay you what we owe and that's it. Now, if you'll excuse me, _sir_." Sarah gave a contemptuously low bow and turned to leave.

The smug smile vanished from Richard's face. He snatched Sarah's wrist and yanked her onto her knees beside his chair. She winced sharply at his grip. "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah...why do you insist on making me your enemy when I could be your ally? You could be much more useful to your father if you would accept my offer. Not many men would be willing to take the daughter of an old, impoverished, frail fisherman as a bride, but I don't care about any of that. I may even be willing to renegotiate the terms of his loan if you do."

Sarah struggled to get out of Richard's grip. "I'd rather starve on the street."

The corner of Richard's mouth twitched in annoyance. "You may very well get your wish, my dear. At the rate you're going you'll be an old spinster before the debt is paid. I may have to take your home next if the payments don't pick up soon."

"You wouldn't dare!" cried Sarah, the shock evident on her face.

Richard grinned menacingly at her. "I dare. I've been quite generous thus far by allowing your father to keep his home. It would be a shame for all those children to leave, sent away to all corners of the kingdom or onto the streets because their dear _mother_ wouldn't do her best to care for them." Richard's other hand shot out and grabbed her face, forcing her to look up at him. "Or for such a pretty rose like yourself to waste your days in a place like this." He leaned in close to her.

"I could make you rich beyond your wildest dreams, Sarah. You'd have the finest dresses, servants to wait on you hand and foot, and all the finest food for you, the children, and your father. All you have to do is say yes." He stared at her face for a moment. Suddenly he leaned in and forced a kiss on her. Sarah turned away quickly so that his lips met her cheek instead. Richard's men laughed loudly, enjoying the scene.

The traveler was clutching its mug so tightly that the metal was starting to bend, its unnatural strength showing its anger. It looked around the room. People were trying to ignore what was happening, but their discomfort was evident. Several more guests got up to leave, unable to watch any more. The bartender was cleaning the mug in his hands so vigorously that the traveler thought the metal would wear off on his towel.

"Let go of me, you brute!" shouted Sarah. Richard gave a cruel laugh before trying to kiss her again. Sarah wriggled her lips away again so he kissed her cheek once more.

"So beautiful, yet so feisty. Things would be so much easier for us both if you cooperated," taunted Richard, running his thumb over Sarah's lips. Sarah snapped at his thumb. Richard quickly snatched his hand back, her teeth making a loud 'clack' as they barely missed his digit.

The traveler stiffened sharply. It knew how Richard's type responded to blatant insubordination. This was about to get ugly.

"Little wench!" Richard backhanded Sarah hard across her left cheek, causing everyone in the tavern to flinch visibly. Sarah lay on the tavern floor clutching her stinging face. "If you're going to behave like a dog, then stay on the ground like one. Now go fetch some wine for my men and I. Go on, fetch!" Sarah started to get to her feet when Richard shoved her back down by the shoulder. "Dogs do not walk on two legs. They crawl on all fours, so that's what you will do. Or would you like me to add another two hundred to daddy's debt as compensation for your little tantrum?"

Sarah remained frozen on her hands and knees. Tears were starting to form in her eyes. Then she slowly crawled on her hands and knees towards the kitchen door, the tears coming freely now. The entire tavern watched in mortified silence as she moved across the floor, her white apron becoming smeared with dust. The traveler could see the hurt and embarrassment in her eyes as she went around the edge of the bar.

The bearded man stood up. "What are you lot looking at?" he growled to the room. The onlookers quickly turned back to their tables, not wanting to get caught up in what they had just seen. The murmur of the crowd returned to the room. "That's what I thought," said the bearded man as he sat back down.

"Maybe you'll find a spare penny while you're down there! Every bit helps!" called the bald man after her. The group laughed loudly as Sarah got to her feet. Her hand was shaking as she reached for the wine and mugs, her left cheek as flushed as the red liquid pouring from the bottle. She spilled the last of the bottle over one of the mugs as her lip started to quiver, trying her best not to let them see her cry. She put the bottle aside and went back to the kitchen for a new one.

If the traveler clutched its mug any harder the metal was going to go flat as a board. Its appetite was ruined just like the mug. This was the other reason that it had avoided taverns in the east. It could never let things like this go. It almost always got involved in some way that resulted in a fight or the traveler having to make a run for it. It was a foolish idea to start a conflict after just arriving in Seahaven, but it could not allow what it had seen to go unpunished. Someone needed to give Richard a taste of his own humiliation, and the traveler was itching to do just that.

The question was how best to do it? His henchmen did not look especially dangerous to the traveler, even with their knives. The handles were too clean and the leather too new to have seen much use. They were probably more for intimidation that actual use. The traveler knew how to deal with knives as easily as it knew how to walk. The real danger was Richard. The metal of his sword's guard and blade was polished as though it was new, but the worn leather of the handle and his gloves were signs of frequent use rather than age. He would have to be practicing seriously almost every day with it to cause that much wear. There was no telling how good of a swordsman he was, and this was not the place to find out. The possibility of getting bystanders caught in the middle was a risk the traveler did not want to take. It also did not want to cause damage to the tavern. Those brutes looked as though they would throw a table or chair in a heartbeat.

Besides, a wound to Richard's pride would be much more satisfying than a punch to his face, as much as he deserved the latter. But what about Sarah? If she stayed here there was a real possibility that Richard could turn his wrath on her out of spite. The traveler would rather take a beating from all three of them with an iron rod than let her get caught in the crossfire. It would need to get her out of there, even if it was just for the day.

A glint of light from behind Richard's chair caught the traveler's eye. It was the gold nugget it had given to Sarah. It must have bounced out of her apron when Richard grabbed her. A plan began to form in the traveler's mind. It could not keep a mischievous grin off its lips. If this worked it would give the scumbags what they had coming and give the traveler a chance to get Sarah away safely and blame free.

The traveler stood and put on its pack and bokken. It went to the end of the bar and motioned to John, who was drying another mug. The bartender cast a lingering glance at Richard before hurrying over to the traveler. "Can I help you, lad?"

The traveler leaned in close. "How much to have Sarah for the day?"

The bartender looked at the traveler as though it had just asked for him to cut his own arm off. "I beg your pardon? This is not that sort of tavern. If you ha'en't noticed, she's suffered enough humiliation today already."

The traveler cringed under the shemagh, realizing how easily that statement could have been misinterpreted. "Not like that," it whispered, reaching for a jewel from its bag as Sarah came back with the new bottle. "I'm asking how much it would cost for you to let me get her away from that bastard. If you don't mind a little mess, I'll let that slime-ball have a taste of his own medicine to boot." It held a smaller ruby in its hand for the bartender to see. "You can't do anything without consequences, and she can't either. I can. Trust me. I've dealt with his kind before. I've got no issues with him having a grudge on me."

The bartender looked over at Richard and his men. They were making barking noises at Sarah as she opened the new wine bottle while their boss quietly ate his meal, a faint smile on his lips. The loathing that was coming off the bartender was almost tangible. He reached into his pocket and produced the ruby the traveler had paid with, turning it over in his hands. Then he looked at the other one the traveler was offering, and then up into the traveler's goggles, seriously considering the offer. The traveler thought he was going to take it. Instead the bartender put the larger ruby back in its palm and closed its fingers around it.

"Do it and you eat free for a week. A month if you teach that bastard a lesson," whispered the bartender. The traveler nodded and put the jewels back with the rest. Sarah was coming around the end of the bar towards the traveler, carrying the mugs and wine bottle on a small serving tray. Her face was still flush from embarrassment and Richard's strike. The traveler quickly lifted its goggles, gave her a knowing wink, and put them back before she could make out its eye color. Sarah looked at it with confusion as she passed. The traveler waited a few seconds before following, hanging back several feet from her. She approached the table and began setting out the mug and wine bottle, doing her best to ignore the amused taunting of her tormentors. Richard took a large swig of wine before returning to his meal.

"Get ready to run," whispered the traveler as it passed by Sarah. It had timed this just right. Richard was digging into his food right when it was behind his chair. He was leaning to take a bite when the traveler sprung its trap.

"What's this?" said the traveler loud enough to be heard over the entire room. The traveler quickly bent over to pick up the gold, deliberately bumping its hips hard into the back of Richard's chair. The sudden jolt pushed the noble face-first into his food, sending cut meat, juices, and potato flying outwards with a loud splattering noise.

An immediate silence fell over the tavern. The bartender dropped the mug he was holding, as did a few other people. Sarah gasped audibly, eyes wide with disbelief as she let the tray slip from her hand. Richard's men stared dumbfounded at their boss as their small minds processed what just happened. You could have heard a pin drop on a feather mattress.

Richard bolted upright, bits of his meal plastered over his face and jacket. "Who did that!?" he shouted, droplets of food flying from his lips. His face was turning bright red underneath its culinary mask.

The traveler stood and spun to face Richard's back, letting its arm come out wide. Its hand caught Richard hard in the side of the head, knocking the smeared noble off his chair. Richard lay on the floor clutching at his now throbbing temple. The bald man was quickly at his side trying to help him upright.

"I'm terribly sorry!" said the traveler with mock concern. "Let me clean that off for you." Before Richard's men could do anything, the traveler grabbed the corner of the tablecloth and pulled hard. The contents of the table went flying at Richard and the bald man, coating them from head to toe with an assortment of meat, gravy, vegetables, and wine. The wine bottle went flying straight upwards in a spinning lob. A plate flew at just the right angle to strike Richard flat in the face, knocking his head back down to the floor. The traveler gave the tablecloth a twirl before throwing it over the men.

The bearded man was just getting to his feet when the traveler snatched the wine bottle from midair and struck it across the man's chin. The blow sent the man's brain rattling around in his skull, causing him to fall back into his chair in an unconscious heap. The bald man and Richard were starting to get up when the traveler brought the bottle down on top of the bald man's head. The bottle broke, sending wine all over him as he slumped on top of Richard, pulling the tablecloth over both of them and pinning a furious Richard to the floor.

There was a moment of stunned silence, like the moment just after a train wreck when everyone is still registering what happened. Then a sound of poorly stifled laughter filled the room. The traveler looked at the crowd. Several people were trying to keep from laughing, but the crinkling at the corners of their eyes and the slight flush to their cheeks did little to hide their amusement. One of the waitresses was covering her smile with her hand, the rise and fall of her shoulders failing to conceal her giggling.

The noise was infectious. Within seconds the entire room burst out in raucous laughter and a few applauding claps as Richard tried to get out from under his henchman and the tablecloth. Hands pounded tables and backs as the amusement spread throughout the tavern. The bartender wiped a tear from his eye with his towel, leaning on the bar for support as he joined in the cacophony. Sarah was laughing as loud as everyone else. The traveler caught her eye. She said nothing, but it could see the disbelief, satisfaction, and slight gratitude in her face.

The traveler darted around the now howling Richard, letting its trailing foot smack him in the head. The man grunted, now clutching both of his throbbing temples. "Come on," said the traveler, grabbing Sarah's wrist and pulling towards the door. "We're getting out of here."

Sarah resisted the traveler's pull. "What?"

"Your boss gave you the day off. Now let's go before Limber-Jack wakes up and Prince Charmless and Dome-boy here get today's menu out of their eyes!"

Sarah looked back to John. He made a shooing gesture towards the door, still laughing with everyone else. Sarah hesitated for a moment, and then gave a thanking nod to her employer. She and the traveler ran for the door as the bald man and his bushy bearded accomplice started to wake up.

The traveler turned back to the room and gave a sweeping bow. "Thank you! Thank you! You've been a wonderful audience!"

There was more laughter and a few more cheers as the traveler and Sarah bolted through the door. A moment later they were in the street and lost among the crowd, unable to hear Richard loose a string of curses that would have made a pirate plug his ears.

* * *

**A/N: Not even a full day in Seahaven and the traveler has already found trouble! But what about Melody? How will she react to her parent's plan to keep her safe? Will Ariel's sisters go on land without resistance? And what awaits the traveler and Sarah? The day is still young, and more is sure to come!**

**As always, your comments/thoughts/constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Mermaid or any of its characters. Everything else, however, is mine =)**


	8. Chapter 8: Flights, Tears, and Homes

Chapter 8: Flights, Tears, and Homes

The traveler and Sarah raced through the crowded street like a pair of falcons through a forest. The traveler dodged nimbly as it navigated the ever-shifting maze of people, horses, livestock, and carriages. The white walls and orange tile roofs of houses flew past them in a blur. Sarah struggled to keep up as her avenger pulled her away from The Mermaid's Trove, unused to the speed at which they were running. Her side was cramping with the effort as they passed under a stone archway. The main plaza was straight ahead of them with the royal palace visible behind it.

"Wait! Slow down!" shouted Sarah as they entered the plaza, a flock of chickens flying out of the way with calls of protest. The plaza was brimming with people and activity at this time of day. A large two-tiered fountain stood in the center. Several horses were stopped at the fountain to drink while a couple young girls tossed coins in for wishes. Several merchant stands were set up with people gathered around them, while women carried baskets with various goods they had purchased. Two men carrying a string of fish on a pole walked through while a man herded sheep towards a side street. A group of young children chased a ball around the ground, nearly running into a group of women dressed in fine gowns.

"Ten second break!" said the traveler as it came to a stop at the fountain's edge. It surveyed the plaza while its new companion caught her breath. The crowd was even denser here than it had been in the streets. It was difficult to see through the walls of people unless you stood on your toes. The traveler was having a love-hate feeling about the crowd. It was ideal for losing pursuers, slowing the inexperienced and large bodied while hiding the pursued like trees in a forest. The merchant stands wound provide quick hiding spots if needed and the noise would hide their voices. On the other hand, it could also hide the people coming after them, and with all the noise it would be next to impossible to hear them approach. They needed to disappear, and fast.

The traveler stood on the edge of the fountain and scanned the area. There was a plethora of buildings surrounding the plaza, but they were built so close together that there was nowhere in between to hide. Several streets emptied into the plaza, but those were just as crowded. Normally the traveler would just run through the crowd and use them to its advantage, but it had Sarah to worry about. She was an ordinary human, and not one that was used to this sort of exertion. They could also draw attention to themselves if they went bumping people out of the way.

The traveler looked back in the direction of The Mermaid's Trove. The door burst open as a food-coated Richard, a wine-stained bald man, and a wobbling bearded man came out, shielding their eyes from the light. They were frantically scanning the streets. The traveler needed to get out of sight-now. It turned back to the buildings, looking for anything that might work as an escape route.

Then the traveler saw it. There was a small alley between a bakery and a butcher's shop that was partially obscured by a horse-drawn buggy, its sleepy driver waiting for a passenger. A stack of crates one deep and fifteen feet high blocked the middle of it, but on the other side was another street. It was narrow enough that a carriage could barely squeeze inside of it. It would be difficult for Richard's henchmen to move through the crowd to get there, and Richard's swordsmanship would be handicapped in the confined space. Fortunately, the traveler was not planning on being around when that sword came out.

"Over there!" said the traveler, pointing to the narrow alley as it grabbed Sarah's hand. It started to go when it felt a heavy resistance from her. The traveler looked back to see Sarah bent over and gasping for air, her face flushed as beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

"I... can't..." panted Sarah, clutching at her side. Her face was screwed up in discomfort as she sucked in air. "Can't... breathe..."

The traveler looked back to the tavern. They had been spotted. Richard and his men were headed right for them. The noble looked ready to skin someone alive, and it was looking straight at the traveler. The traveler cursed. The time for subtlety was over.

"No time." The traveler grabbed Sarah's other wrist and draped her arms over its shoulders so that she was riding piggyback, bent low, and then took off at a full sprint. Sarah gave a surprised gasp as they dashed for the alley, heads well below the crowd as the traveler leaned into the run. It felt like she was flying. Her feet floated over the ground as they cut through the crowd. People whipped past her as the traveler ran, completely unresponsive to the grey and green blur that zipped by them. The wind started to loosen Sarah's headscarf. How strong was this person for it to run at such speed while carrying her, a sword, and a semi-full pack? Before she could start to enjoy the sensation they were at their destination. But instead of stopping the traveler kept running straight for the

"Where are you-?"

"Going up!" said the traveler. It crouched low and jumped. Before Sarah could say anything else they were rising over the crates. She let out a yelp that was an even mix of excitement, surprise, and fear. They hung in midair for a brief moment before coming down on the other side of the alley. The traveler hit the ground like a cat, knees bending low to absorb the impact. The traveler quickly let go of Sarah, then drew its bokken and thrust it between the crates at chest level. It gave a sharp twist and shimmied the blade back and forth, causing the crates to separate enough that it could peer through.

"How did you...we were just..." stammered Sarah in amazement, gawking at the stack of crates they had just cleared.

"Shhhh!" the traveler said as it looked through the newly formed gap. It was not much, but it could see down the alley and into the plaza beyond. Several tense moments passed as the traveler watched the people walk by behind the buggy. Then Richard and his goons rushed in from behind the buggy and into the alley. The traveler shrunk back from the crack, pressing its back against the crates. It grabbed Sarah's wrist and pulled her next to it, putting a finger to its lips. Sarah tried to calm her breathing as their pursuer's footsteps approached.

"They aren't here, sir," said the bald man. There was a sound of a hand slapping the back of a head. Sarah's eyes widened as she realized how close they were.

"I can see that, you dunce!" hissed Richard. "So where are they? I told you both to keep an eye on them."

"Maybe they jumped over?" said the bearded man. Another sound of a hand against someone's head.

"Sure, they jumped fifteen feet straight up and over the crates, and then landed on the other side without injury. While were at it, let's also say they sprouted wings and flew over!" snapped Richard. "You're useless! You were supposed to keep your eyes on them!"

"It was a dense crowd, boss," apologized the bearded man. "They must have doubled back when they saw the crates."

The traveler could hear Richard draw his sword as he gave a howl of frustration. A moment later the tip pierced straight through between Sarah and the traveler's faces, sending splinters flying outward. The traveler threw its hand over her mouth in time to stifle a startled yelp.

"Idiots! What do I pay you for?" The rapier retreated into the crate, followed by the sound of a blade being sheathed. "Let's go. We will find him sooner or later. He can't hide forever."

"What about Sarah, sir?" asked the bald man.

"Forget Sarah! The wench is not my concern anymore! It's that masked man I want! No one makes a fool out of me and gets away with it!"

"Do you think she got him to do it for her?" asked the bearded man.

Richard scoffed. "She's too spineless to do anything that brash. She knows what I'd do if she tried anything like that. That little outburst of hers was the boldest we've seen her yet. No, this was some halfwit wanting to play hero. If that man had any idea who I was he would have stayed out of it."

"That's right, boss," said the bearded man. "No one in Seahaven is better with a blade than you."

The traveler could practically sense Richard's smirk. "More like the entire Alliance."

The traveler clenched its bokken. Its hunch about Richard had been right. No wonder he had been able to pierce that crate. The traveler was now glad it had not started a sword duel in the tavern, much less in the streets. A highly skilled fighter with a loose temper was as much a danger to it as it was to bystanders.

Three sets of footsteps retreated towards the buggy, followed by a single set of footsteps boarding it. Another pair started to get on, causing the suspension of the buggy to groan under the weight. "No. You two stay here and keep searching. I want that rat brought before me on his knees begging for mercy!" The noise of metal bending back told that one of the goons had gotten off the buggy.

"The Avitas estate, and make it fast!" ordered Richard. There was the sound of reins being picked up and the crack of a whip, and then the unmistakable clatter of the buggy pulling away. The traveler looked back through the crack in time to see the two goons walk back into the crowd.

The traveler pulled its hand away from Sarah's mouth and leaned its head back against the crates. "They're gone," it said, letting out a sigh of relief. Sarah collapsed to her knees, releasing a breath she had not known she was holding. "Well, that was exciting. Who are the giants?"

"Jack and Bill," said Sarah, working to slow her breathing and racing heart. "They're technically Richard's bodyguards, but they're more like his lapdogs. Richard barely needs guarding thanks to his swordsmanship. They just do whatever he tells them to. Not the brightest pair, though."

The traveler slipped the bokken back through its belt. "Sounds like just the sort of people his type goes for-big, strong, and too dumb to question orders. Come on, let's get out of here before they _do_ find us." The traveler shifted its pack before extending a hand to Sarah. "Are you all right?"

Sarah hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to accept the traveler's hand. She barely knew this person who called itself Hood, yet not five minutes ago it had given her a piece of gold worth more than her weekly earnings and made an enemy of one of the most powerful men in Seahaven on her behalf. She did not even now what this person looked like. But there was something in its voice that made her want to trust it, something in the way it had held her wrist in the tavern that told her it was someone she could rely on. Her intuition told her this was a person that would not do wrong by her.

"I'll be okay," she said as she took the traveler's hand. Its grip was firm but gentle as it pulled her upright. "Thank you for what you did back there."

The traveler shrugged. "Just doing what I thought was right. Someone needed to stand up to that brat. Here, you dropped this." The traveler pulled the gold out from under its bandages and handed it to Sarah. "It fell out when he struck you. It actually gave me the chance I needed to get back at him."

Sarah stared at the dot of yellow metal in her hand. It shone brightly in the late morning sun. "Thank you." She removed her headscarf and folded it around the gold before tucking it deep into her apron pocket. "Um...you said you needed me to fill you in on something?"

As if on cue the traveler's stomach growled loud enough that several people turned to look at it. The traveler blushed underneath its shemagh as Sarah stifled a small laugh. "I think _you_ are what needs filling."

"Well...I never did get that pot roast," said the traveler sheepishly as it scratched the back of its head, a habit it had developed when it felt embarrassed.

Sarah smiled at the traveler. How was it Hood could have her holding her breath one moment, squealing in terror the next, and then turn right around and make her laugh? She definitely liked this person. "I need to get food anyways. I'll make you something at home to thank you. You can tell me where you're from on the way there."

"Sounds good to me," said the traveler. It pulled up its hood, casting its face in shadow except for a faint reflection off its goggles. "So, how much do you know about the eastern kingdoms?"

* * *

"A bodyguard? That's your plan? You're saddling me with an armed babysitter?"

Melody was pacing back and forth angrily across her room as Ariel sat on her bed. The teen was trying to avoid clenching William's gift in her hand. Needless to say, she had not taken the news as well as Ariel would have hoped.

"I feel like a toddler again," muttered Melody, "You and dad making decisions about my life while I get no say in it."

"Melody, we're not just talking about Morgana. We're not even talking about Morgana and Ursula. We're talking about them and an entire group of sorcerers in the sea and most likely on the land, too. Morgana is after revenge and she's set her sights on you. You need someone to look out for you."

"I don't want looking after!" snapped Melody. "I want someone to get those witches and kill them!"

"Melody!" Ariel was taken aback by her daughter's words. She had never heard her say anything so vicious in her life. She had wished ill things on people before, yes, but she had never actually wanted someone dead.

Melody paced the length of her room before turning on her mother. "Why can't I just go to Atlantica? I'd be safer with Grandfather than I would be here. At least he's got the trident."

"I told you already," explained Ariel, hoping to diffuse her daughter's anger. "Daddy is not as young as he used to be... and before you say anything those were his words, not mine. And he is still the king. He has to protect everyone in Atlantica, lead the search, and keep the kingdom running all at the same time. As much as I know he wants to, he can't devote all of his effort to protecting us. The reason he's sending your aunts here to stay with us in the first place is because he doesn't think he can protect them any better."

Melody wheeled on her mother. "And you and dad can? You think a bodyguard with a sword or some stone walls and a bunch of soldiers will keep me safe from a pair of sea witches?" shouted Melody, her hand starting to indent the sides of William's gift. "They've been giving me nightmares for the past month! They walked right into the party without anyone noticing! They killed William with a weapon we've never seen before, and then Morgana, who is supposed to be dead, brings him back to life with Ursula's spell as a talking corpse! Then they disappear without a trace to who-knows-where, and you and dad decide the best thing for me is to get a guy with an oversized knife to watch over me?! Exactly how safe do you think I feel!?"

She was practically screaming now. Her face felt as hot as her chest, like there was a fire burning inside it. She did not know where this anger was coming from, but she did not feel like holding it back. "How are you going to protect me from that!? What do you think a bodyguard could possibly do against them!? They'll kill him in an instant! What's next, you're going to keep me in the castle and...?" The pieces of the puzzle came together in a terrible moment of realization. "Oh no..."

Ariel looked to her daughter pleadingly, wishing she could understand her concern. "Melody..."

Melody grabbed the locket around her neck. "You can't be serious! I have to stay in the castle as well? Are you going to take this too?"

Ariel shook her head. "I'm not going to take your locket, and neither is your father. This is only until we find a guardian for you. After that you can go back out of the castle and along the shore, but until Morgana and Ursula are found it won't be safe for you out there."

"Oh sure," said Melody sarcastically. "While you're at it, why don't we put the sea wall back up? Hey, let's put two up just for kicks. I'm sure you and dad can get that started just fine. It will be like my childhood all over again, a prisoner in my own home."

Ariel felt her own temper starting to rise. "Melody, why are you so against this? We're trying to protect you!"

"I don't want you to!" shouted Melody. "I don't want anyone to! Will did and look what happened to him! I don't want anyone else dying because of me!" Melody slapped her hand over her mouth as she realized what she had said. She had not meant to say that. It had just blurted out on accident. Yet it was exactly how she felt.

A sudden spark of realization hit Ariel. She hoped she was wrong, but she new that she was not as she rose from the bed. "Melody," she said slowly, approaching her daughter as though she was approaching a wild animal, afraid that one wrong move would cause her to attack. "Do you think Will died... because of you?"

Melody stared her mother straight in the face. Ariel could see a fire burning inside her eyes. It was not the usual fire of a headstrong, adventurous young woman on the cusp of adulthood. Nor was it her usual sparkle of enthusiasm and kindness. It was a hateful inferno that demanded revenge. She had the eyes of someone who hungered for vengeance, who would be willing to draw blood if given the chance. They were the most terrifying eyes Ariel had ever seen, partly because of the rage they held, but mostly because they were her daughter's eyes. Ariel had never seen such eyes on her daughter before, and it scared her.

For a moment it looked like Melody would yell at her again. Then, like a brick house in an earthquake, the last of Melody's fortitude broke. The loss of her first love, the trauma of the attack, the days of grieving, and now her lost freedom had at last taken their toll. Her hope, her heart, and her ability to endure gave way under the crushing weight of it all.

There have been many cries of grief in the time since humans and merfolk first felt grief. Many came from the loss of a loved one. Others came from the injustice of the world coordinating against one unfortunate soul, while others came from a total loss of hope. They have all been terrible sounds that make the heart weep and the soul tremble. But there had never been a cry so mournful or bereft of hope as the one that came from Melody right then. She sunk to her knees in defeat and let loose a long, drawn out cry somewhere between a scream and a wail. Her eyes were shut tight as every ounce of grief, remorse, guilt, anger, fear, and pain in her heart came free in one heart-wrenching song of sorrow.

Ariel threw caution to the wind. She dashed over, falling to her knees as she threw her arms around Melody. The princess buried her head into her mother's shoulder, her tears forming a dark wet stain against the light blue fabric. She clutched at Ariel's dress as though clinging to a piece of debris after a shipwreck, afraid that if she let go the tempest inside would drown her.

"It won't stop!" sobbed Melody, her sobs muffled against her mother's embrace as the tears fell with renewed vigor. "I can't get him out of my head! I close my eyes and he's there looking at me! All I can see his that scared look on his face and the blood on my hands! And I can't stop wishing it were me instead! Can't stop thinking that if he hadn't come, if he hadn't asked me to dance, if he hadn't loved me then..."

Ariel squeezed Melody close, not wanting her to finish that sentence. "This isn't your fault!" she said firmly, fighting to keep her own voice from breaking. "None of this is! Don't ever blame yourself for what happened!"

"I don't want to!" Melody looked up into her mother's face. Her puffy red eyes were devoid of that vengeful fire, quenched by the tears she shed. "I keep telling myself over and over it isn't my fault, it's Morgana's. But I keep hearing Willard's voice, keep hearing William's last words, and I can't help thinking he would still be alive if it wasn't for me!" Melody dropped her head into her mother's lap as the sobs wracked her body, her chest heaving with each cry. The strength left her hands as they slumped to the floor.

The present slipped out of her grip. The ribbon gave way and the lid came free. Melody did not see it, but out fell a beautifully crafted wooden jewelry box. It was not very big, just large enough to fit in her hand. The detail on it was as meticulous as it was exquisite. The rings in the wood were like ripples on a still lake. The varnished ash wood shone with a perfect gloss. It had been engraved with waves, dolphins, turtles, and mermaids around the sides. The top bore a mermaid and a human girl framing a familiar line of engraved text.

_Together we come forever to be_

_Under one sun, the land and the sea_

Ariel was momentarily distracted from her daughter. She knew those words. She had sung them on the day she had taken Melody to meet her aunts and grandfather for the first time. It had been a day for celebration and lament, for it was also that day when they had first met Morgana. She had taught Melody the words after the wall had come down. She must have sung it for William.

Ariel picked up the jewelry box. Melody remained on her lap crying. She could tell there was something inside of it, as it was unusually heavy for such a small object. For a brief moment Ariel considered opening it, but quickly abandoned the temptation. It was not hers to open. Whatever William had placed inside this box, he would have wanted Melody to be the first one to see it. She quietly put the jewelry box back in its box and tied the lid back on.

Melody slowly fell onto her side, her head remaining on her mother's lap. Her eyes were clenched shut as she lay there. Her crying was quieted to whimpers and sniffles. Ariel took her daughter's hand and put the box back in it. Melody's fingers gently curled around the gift as she pulled it to her chest.

"I'll leave you alone," said Ariel as she started to get up.

Melody grasped her mother's skirt. "No. Please don't go... I don't want to be alone..."

Ariel settled back onto the floor. "Okay. I'll stay as long as you want. I promise."

For several minutes they stayed like that, Ariel stroking her daughter's hair soothingly as Melody's crying slowly faded away. The only sounds were Melody's choked breathing, the wind as it moved around the castle, and the faint calls of gulls from the shore. The bells in Seahaven began to ring again, signaling that the day was half gone.

"Mom..." whispered Melody, "I'm scared."

Ariel brushed a strand of hair off Melody's forehead. "I know, sweetheart. Me too. We all are."

* * *

"_This_ is your home?"

The traveler and Sarah stood at the gate to a white walled three-story building with the characteristic red shingle roof of Seahaven homes. The town was at least two miles away by dirt roads, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows from the buildings. The traveler was carrying its cloak like a makeshift bag over its shoulder, holding the ends to form a large pouch. A vast assortment of vegetables, fruits, breads, and a few packages of meat lay in the cloak. It was enough to feed a family of five for two weeks. A normal human would have extreme difficulty carrying such a load, but to the traveler it was just a light but bulky object.

They had been fortunate enough to not encounter Richard's goons or the man himself again. They had spotted the bald one once as he crossed the street, but he missed them completely. The traveler had filled Sarah in on major details of its journey west and a little bit about itself as they walked about the town. There were certain details it had left out and questions it had been unable to answer, but Sarah had not pushed for the truth. She felt the traveler had a good reason for its secrecy, and that was enough for her. It had graciously paid for the food instead of letting Sarah use the gold she had received, encouraging her to get as much as she needed. The young woman had been all too willing to do so. She now carried the traveler's pack and bokken, insisting it was the least she could do since it was carrying the heavier load.

The building sat in the middle of a four-acre field of green grass. There were signs that the house had once been in better condition. The two chimneys on top were missing bricks, and boards covered what the traveler assumed were holes in the roof. The paint on the walls was peeling off in places. Many of the windows on each floor were boarded over or covered with grime. The once sturdy door was splitting in spots, the simple iron handle clearly put on after a finer doorknob was removed. The stone path leading up to the door from the road was missing stones in many places. A worn wooden fence surrounded the property. The house was flanked on its left by an enormous oak tree that rose even with the roof. A pair of rope swings hung from a thick branch. A small clear pond was next to it, the water's surface marred by a blanket of leaves from the tree branches that spread above it. On the right was a stone well, the top blocked by a large wooden cover. A flock of chickens clucked around the house, pecking at the grass for whatever food they could find. Behind the traveler was a field of wheat from the neighboring farm. Behind the house was the border of the Emerald Woods. Was it the traveler's imagination, or were there shapes moving between the trees?

"It needs a bit of work," said Sarah as they walked towards the door. "But it's still a good home."

"It's not that," said the traveler, being careful to avoid a sizable hole in the path. "Trust me, this is luxury compared to a lot of places back east. It's just so...big."

Sarah chuckled as she went to the door. "I get that a lot. We need the space for all the kids."

She pushed the door open with a loud squeak, revealing a large room that took the entire bottom floor. The walls, floor, and ceiling were brown boards. Dingy light came in through the windows, casting the room in a dull glow. To the right was a simple kitchen with an iron stove, a basin for water, a cutting table with a poorly repaired leg, and an assortment of knives, pots, pans, and other cooking essentials. A large set of cupboards took up most of the wall in the kitchen, while the rest of the walls in the room bore old oil lanterns or candles. A pantry was in the back right corner, the door long since gone. A second door next to the pantry still had its doorknob, presumably leading outside. Square patches of lighter wood on the walls told of paintings that had been taken down. To the right was a small wood burning stove and a trio of patched up armchairs. A large worn green rug lay on the floor. At the back left was a long table lined with wooden benches and a high backed chair at either end. At the far back of the room was a stairway that rose up toward the wall before turning sharply around and disappearing up into the second floor. Evening light streamed in through a round window above the stairs, creating a circle of light on the floor.

"You can put the food there," said Sarah, pointing to the kitchen table. She put the traveler's things down by the front door before trotting over and opening the side door. "I'm home! Dinner will be ready soon!" she called out before closing the door.

Immediately there was a sound of thunder from above them like a stampede of rhinos charging down a long hallway. A cacophony of voices drifted down from above. Bits of dust shook loose from the ceiling and the lamps danced on the walls as the noise raced towards the stairs.

"Uh...Sarah?" asked the traveler nervously as it put the food down, watching the roof above them as though it were about to cave in. It retreated towards the door, wanting to be close to the exit in case the ceiling lost its fight with gravity. "I've been meaning to ask-how many kids do you have exactly?"

The noise got louder as Sarah washed her hands off in the basin. "Thirty-three right now," she said as she pulled a box of matches out of one of the cupboards.

"Oh, that's i-THIRTY-THREE!?"

Right then a flood of young boys and girls descended the stairs. The door behind the traveler began to squeak, giving it just enough time to turn around before the door opened straight into its face. The traveler fell to the floor, face numb from the impact. Several small children tripped over the traveler's feet and fell on top of it, each successive one knocking more wind out of it. The children quickly formed a ring around the traveler, curious as to the identity of their guest.

"Hood! Are you alright?" squealed Sarah as she rushed over to the traveler's aid, gently pushing the kids aside.

The traveler grabbed its nose and gently wriggled it. It was not broken, but it sure felt like it. "I think so...ow. I'll let you know when I can feel my legs and face again," groaned the traveler as it lay on the floor, eyes shut in discomfort as it worked to get its breath back. The knives on its back pressed uncomfortably into its spine. It looked to its feet to see children of various ages piled on top of its legs and torso.

'_That explains the shapes in the forest_,' thought the traveler.

"Mister, why do you have funny glasses?"

The traveler looked up. A young girl no older than six was leaning over it. She had straight brown hair and a round face. A band of light freckles stood out underneath her clear brown eyes. She wore a tattered yellow dress with multiple stitches in it from home repair jobs. She was looking at the traveler with the most curious expression the traveler had ever seen on a person. Behind her were more children staring at it with similar expressions.

"Sensitive eyes," said the traveler.

"What have I told you all about barging through the door like that?" said Sarah as she started extricating kids from the traveler. "Jenni, give him some room. All of you, get off our guest before he suffocates from you sitting on him!"

"What guest?" called a gruff male voice. The traveler could hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs, but it sounded as though there was a third foot in there somewhere.

"Hood. He came here from the east, dad. He helped me at work today so I promised him dinner as a way to say thanks," said Sarah as the traveler got to its feet. The children all took a step back, intimidated by the masked face and dark glasses. Jenni quickly ran behind Sarah's legs, peering out shyly from the safety of the young woman's dress.

"You promised him dinner? What about the rest of us? And who or what is Hood?" exclaimed the voice coming down the stairs. An elderly man became visible at the turn in the stairs. He was a tall man at six feet, but the way his white shirt hung loose on his body told of a less than sufficient diet and some underlying illness. Brown suspenders that had clearly been sewn back together several times held up his brown pants. His brown shoes had large scuffmarks over them. The right one had a hole in the front, exposing his big toe. His face was heavily wrinkled and weathered from years in the sun. He had scraggly silver hair that was trimmed short, although the scruffiness of his beard and eyebrows would make anyone believe the hair had been moved from one place to another. His legs shook slightly he walked, leaning heavily on a wooden cane for support.

'_That explains the third footstep_,' though the traveler as the man descended the last few steps, his dark eyes looking the traveler over. "I'm Hood. A man named Richard was harassing your daughter at The Mermaid's Trove tavern. He struck her and then threatened to raise your debt if she didn't crawl on the floor like a dog. I intervened since no one else would...or should I say, could. Gave him a taste of his own medicine and got her out of there-with the permission of her boss, of course."

The old man's beard bristled as he turned to Sarah. He quickly hobbled over and looked at her face. It was faint, but there was a bruise forming on her cheek. "Richard did that to you?" Sarah nodded. The old man's cane was shaking with anger now. He looked at the food on the table. It had been over a year since they had seen that much food in their house at one time. "Did you buy this?" he asked, turning to the traveler.

"Yes," replied the traveler. "I also gave Sarah something for her time today. I'm a stranger here, and your daughter was kind enough to tell me about this place."

Sarah produced the gold from her apron. The old man's eyes went wide as he looked at the nugget. The kids let out a collective 'ooh' of interest and amazement.

"Shiny!" said one of the kids. The rest murmured in agreement.

The old man pinched the gold between his fingers and held it up, studying how it glinted in the light. He placed it on the table and pushed down hard with his thumb. The metal gave slightly under his weight. It was real.

The old man turned to the traveler, trying to discern what was behind those black goggles. "You did all of this for someone you just met? Why?"

The traveler looked at Sarah and then at the kids in front of it. They ranged from as old as twelve to as young as five. They all looked as though they were wearing the only set of clothing they owned. There was thinness to their faces like Sarah's had, indicating that they had not been able to eat their fill in a long time. Their hair was greasy from not bathing regularly, and some had no shoes. Their eyes were hungry and pleading, as though begging the traveler for its help. The traveler had seen those eyes before back east. It never would have thought it would see those same eyes here.

"Not doing the right thing when it is needed most is no less shameful that doing something knowing it is wrong," quoted the traveler.

"Who told you that?" asked Sarah.

The traveler looked back at its bokken propped up next to the door, remembering the days it spent in its library back home. "My dad."

"Your father was a wise soul," said the old man as he handed the gold back to Sarah.

The traveler nostalgically touched the fire pendant though its tunic. "He was an even better parent."

The old man looked at Sarah, then back at the food, and then at the children. Their attention was torn between their cautious curiosity about the traveler and their amazement at the gold and the bounty of food in front of them. The hunger was visible on their faces. The old man walked over to the traveler and looked it up and down. The traveler was just as tall as he was, but it was impossible to tell much else from his appearance. His hands were the only skin visible other than a few scant bits of its face between its shemagh and goggles. The old man saw that the traveler's hands were toughened in the palms and fingers. There were a few small scars on the backs of its hands and knuckles. They were the hands of someone with grit.

"Hood, I don't know who you are, where you're from, or why you're here. Heck, I don't even know if that's your real name. But for whatever reason you helped my daughter, gave that smug bastard Richard what he's been deserving for a long time, put more food on our table than we have had in more than a year, and shown a generosity to my family that we haven't seen for a long time." He held out his hand for the traveler to shake. "You are more than welcome to join us at our table."

The traveler looked at the old man's hand. When was the last time someone had extended a hand to it in friendship? Oh, right. It was back east. The traveler remembered it now as though it was yesterday."

_The traveler sat across from the princess in the rose garden. It was one of those rare sunny days._

"_Promise we'll always be together?" said the princess, holding up her pinky for the traveler to take. _

_The traveler smiled. It reached its hand behind the princess' head and pulled her close so that their foreheads touched. "Have I ever broken a promise to you?"_

The traveler pushed the memory away. Those days were gone. It was here now. It took the old man's hand. He had a firm grip from years of hauling nets and steering ships on the ocean. "I would be glad to, Mister...?"

"Just call me Isaac, son," said the old man, a tired smile playing at the corners of his mouth. An air of tension lifted from the room. Several of the kids stepped closer, curious to the identity of their guest.

Sarah smiled. "I might as well introduce you to everyone." She walked up behind the kids and began pointing as she named them. Jenni hid behind her the entire time.

"We have George, Aliya, Jessica, Kathryn, Katie, Taylor, Eric, Robert, Cassandra, Mary, Jonathan, Ben, Elaine, Max, Zoey..." She paused as she took another breath. "Hector, William, Jackson, Victor, Rachel, Raphael, Misty, Rebecca, Morgan, Theresa, Samantha, Sophia, Zachary, Nora, Ester, Fredrick, and Alice."

The little brown haired girl peeked out from behind Sarah's legs. "This is Jennifer," said Sarah, "but everyone calls her Jenni. Kids, this is Hood. He's a traveler from the east who stood up to Richard for me today. He's a really brave, strong, and kind person, so I want you all to be extra polite to him."

As though sensing that the danger had passed the kids swarmed around the traveler. They bombarded it with questions faster than it could answer.

"Did you really beat up Richard? You must be strong!"

"Where are you from? Are you staying here?"

"Why are you wearing a curtain on your face?"

"Why is your name Hood?"

"Does your dad have a curtain too?"

"Do you wear glasses because you have eye problems?"

"I...uh..." the traveler stammered, unable to get a word in amidst the chattering. "Sarah, help!"

"There will be time for questions later," said Sarah, coming to the traveler's rescue. "Hood had a long trip and I'm sure he wants to rest. Right now everyone needs to help with dinner." The kids let out a collective 'aw' of disappointment. "Not 'aw.' Come on, you all know what you need to do. It's soup tonight and we have lots to go around, so hop to it!"

Sarah clapped her hands. The kids dispersed to their respective tasks as though they had been trained. A fire-line quickly formed between the cupboards and the dining table as children passed down plates, candles, utensils, and cups. Three of the older boys grabbed a trio of buckets from near the stove and ran outside, presumably for water. More still went to the food and began unpacking it as Sarah directed where the food should go, setting aside the ingredients she would need. The traveler was amazed by the efficiency with which they operated. Each kid seemed to have a specific task assigned to him or her. Children were running left and right in a well organized scramble, dodging and weaving their way through each other as though they had done this a thousand times before. Ant colonies were less structured than this household. Within minutes the table was set, there were three buckets filled with water, and the food was more than half put away.

The traveler stood back as Jenni raced by with an onion in her hands. "Are any of these your grandkids, Isaac?" asked the traveler as the little girl disappeared into the pantry.

"No," answered Isaac as he watched two of the boys take down a large cast iron pot from one of the cupboards. The pot was more than half as tall as they were. They strained to lift it between the two of them until a pair of girls rushed over to help. The four puffed their cheeks with exertion as they moved it over to the stove and began to pour water into it, recruiting more kids to lift it onto the stove. "They're all orphans from here and the surrounding kingdoms."

The traveler looked back to the room. The house had suddenly taken on a more somber tone. "All of them?"

Isaac nodded. "I'm sure Sarah told you about all the strange things that have been going on. There weren't so many of them few years ago-the kids, I mean- but with all these spooks happening there are more and more that have lost their parents. See little Jenni over there? Bandits killed her family. It was weeks before she would speak to anyone. Raphael lost his father when their ship went down. He was the only survivor. Says some type of sea monster attacked them. Ben and his sister Sophia escaped from a slaver's caravan. They took their mother and father as well. There are a lot of sad stories in this place."

The traveler watched the kids finish putting away the last of the food. It could not help but feel sympathy to them. At least here they had somewhere to go other than the streets. "Why aren't they at the orphanages of their respective kingdoms?"

"A lot of places in the other kingdoms don't have orphanages," said Sarah as she lit the stove. "That's how rare orphans were in this part of the world. If you had been here four years ago you would have seen less than a quarter of this. The old orphanage here closed down more than fifteen years ago, so mom and dad opened this one on their own to ensure they had a place to go."

"Where is your mom?" asked the traveler as it took its bokken away from an inquisitive young boy who was about to grab it. It grabbed its pack and put it up on a coat peg next to the door, well out of reach of the younger ones. It removed its knives and stuck them in the pack, not wanting one of the kids to grab them on accident.

"She died when I was seven. Caught a bad fever and didn't pull through."

The traveler kicked itself mentally. "Oh...I'm sorry."

Isaac shook his head. "It's nothing to feel bad about. We've all learned to move on. She wouldn't want Sarah and I mourning her for the rest of our lives, not with these little ones needing our help. You know, she would have liked you. A man who helps a total stranger and then buys her family dinner without asking anything in return? You are a rare breed indeed."

'_You don't know the half of it_,' though the traveler. '_Rare doesn't come close to describing me_.'

"Well, if you're looking for a place to stay," said Isaac, "You're welcome here until you have to leave."

The traveler shook its head. "I won't be traveling any more, but I can't stay here on your charity. You already have enough mouths to feed."

"Well, if you insist on earning your keep, you can lend a hand at The Mermaid's Trove," said Sarah, rolling up her sleeves before cutting into an onion. "It's always busy there so John is constantly looking for help. Richard and his lackeys didn't see your face, so as long as you don't wear that mask and goggles you should be fine."

Isaac nodded in agreement. "I've got some things around here that need fixing if you're up to it. I'd do it myself, but..." He gestured to the cane.

The traveler stood flabbergasted for a moment. It was completely taken back by the generosity they were showing it. Not ten minutes in their home and they had invited it to stay and pointed it towards work. And work that did not require a sword.

The traveler gave an elegant bow to both of them. "If you'll have me, I'd be glad to be of service."

A pair of small hands pulled at the traveler's sleeve. The traveler turned over to see Jenni staring at it. She still looked slightly afraid, but her curiosity was stronger.

"Mister, are you really from the east?"

The traveler knelt down so it was at Jenni's level. "I am."

"How did you get here?"

"I crossed the desert," said the traveler, "and then the mountains."

The girl's eyes filled with wonder. "Did you see any monsters on your way here?"

The traveler smiled under its shemagh. "I did. You want to hear?" Jenni nodded enthusiastically.

"Monster stories are for babies!" said one of the boys from the pantry.

"Hector!" scolded Sarah. "Shame on you!"

"Is that so?" The traveler shrugged. "Fine. Then I guess you don't want to hear about how I fought off a swarm of devil worms, or how I met a mountain spirit, or followed a pair of dire wolves to Seahaven, or how I kicked Richard's bu-."

Before the traveler could finish there were twenty kids clustered around it with eyes as big as dinner plates, pleading with it to tell them. The remainder was scrambling to finish their tasks so they could come join them.

Sarah and Isaac laughed. "I think they want to hear it after all," said the old fisherman.

The traveler looked to Sarah. "Well...if you don't mind."

Sarah waved her hand at the traveler. "You go ahead. Dad and I can listen while we finish getting dinner ready."

The traveler grinned under its shemagh. "Okay then..." It looked around for a good place to sit, settling on the wood-burning stove. The rug provided plenty of room for the children to sit down, and it had the feel of a stage. The traveler walked over with the children in tow and sat down. Thankfully the metal was still cold. "So how do these stories start again?"

"ONCE UPON A TIME!" shouted the children loudly. The traveler acted as though the force of their shout blew it off the stove, falling to the floor with arms and legs flailing. The children laughed loudly as it stumbled comically to its feet, brushing bits of ash and dust off its back and bottom.

"Right! Of course! How could I forget?" The traveler walked over to the door and picked up its bokken. It wanted it for dramatic effect. Of course it would have to leave certain parts of the story out-namely how it had used 'that' to drive off the devil worms and cross the desert, and Kodama's true identity- but it would still make for an entertaining tale. The traveler looked at its audience. How strange that for once the children were drawn to it instead of running away in fear. They looked at it with wanton fascination, eagerly awaiting the tale of its westward journey. This was what the traveler had left the east for: chances to start over, lead a new life, leave the bloodstained past behind it, and do penance for the mistake it had made.

"Let's see. Once upon a time, but not too long ago..."

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter done! Yay! Thought that would take a lot longer than it did!**

**So I didn't get to Triton and Ariel's sisters this time. Next chapter, I promise! Each one is another step closer to the unveiling of the traveler!**

******I've had people ask me how often I'll be updating. With work and school I'm hoping to put one of these out at least every two weeks, but it may vary from as little as one week to as long as three. Please be patient and I promise to keep the story going!**

**FYI if you reread a chapter and notice that the wording in some parts has changed, it's because I edited it. I try to make these as perfect as possible before I post them, but I still manage to find parts that I want to improve. Don't worry if you don't reread the chapters-I won't be making any changes to the story line once a chapter is posted.**

**As always, your comments/thoughts/constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Mermaid or any of its characters. Everything else, however, is mine =)**

**...and the song lyrics are not mine either**


	9. Chapter 9: For Their Sake

Chapter 9: For Their Sake

The bells of Seahaven rang six times. The sun was just clearing the White Iron Mountains, casting gargantuan shadows over the Howling Forest that steadily retreated under the snow-capped peaks. A faint fog hung in the chilled air, thin and wispy compared to the day before. Already the vapor was being burned off by the sunlight. Winter dew hung on everything that had been exposed to the night air. The trickling of water from the plaza fountain, barely noticeable in the cacophony of day, was now the dominant noise in the stillness of daybreak. The town was empty compared to the usual midday activity level. The cobblestone streets were deserted except for shopkeepers readying their stores for the day ahead and the lamp men dousing the street lamps. Sleepy guards leaned against the buildings, their heavy cloaks pulled tight to fight off the chill.

The traveler emerged from a street into the plaza, although you would not recognize it in the disguise it had orchestrated. It had pulled the hood of its cloak low over its face and adopted a heavily bowed posture, using its bokken like a walking stick. Its hands were covered in a pair of worn fingerless gloves it had borrowed from Isaac. The traveler's excellent eyesight turned the material of its hood into a screen, allowing the traveler to see through it without anyone being able to see in. It had clipped a handful of tail hairs off an unsuspecting grey horse and secured them to the inside of the hood, creating the illusion of long wispy hair. It did not wear the shemagh this morning. It was pointless since its face was completely obscured by the hood, and it would be safer if its hood did get removed somehow. The shemagh had been stuffed around its shoulders to distort its form while the dark goggles were stuck through its belt. It leaned heavily on the wooden sword, walking with a heavy gate to create the illusion of a body wracked by age. It made faint grunting sounds as it walked, or at least the sort of noises it thought an arthritic elderly woman would make while walking. To the untrained eye the traveler was a haggard old peasant woman dressed in an oversized cloak hobbling in the direction of The Mermaid's Trove.

Sarah had been insistent on going to the tavern that day, but the traveler had insisted otherwise. She needed a break after yesterday's ordeal. The traveler had finally persuaded her to stay home for the day after they had finalized a story to keep Richard's suspicions off Sarah should he come knocking. If the greedy lord did come looking for the traveler, she would tell him that "Hood" had grabbed her against her will and tried to force himself on her in an alleyway. She was saved when the guards spotted them and he fled. If the story did not sell it, then Sarah's performance as a traumatized, fragile, "spineless" woman would certainly do it. The traveler had been careful to leave no trace of itself at their house, hiding all of its things deep in the Emerald Woods. It had promised to bring back a day's pay to make up for her absence from work. The orphanage could not afford to miss even one day's wages. They needed the money. Badly.

Though it would have appreciated being able to walk upright, the traveler had enjoyed strolling through the town in the waking hours of the day. The streets were sleepy compared to the tempest of activity that the traveler had witnessed yesterday. It gave the traveler a chance to explore the town fully with as few people seeing it as possible. It had considered going to the palace, but decided against it. Considering all the strange activity in the kingdom, strange people with wooden swords and hoods hiding their faces approaching the gate at dawn would probably not receive a welcome as warm as the temperature was. It also gave the traveler time to collect its thoughts, specifically those concerning its conversation with Isaac last night.

* * *

"Four thousand?!"

"Shhhh! You'll wake the children!" hissed Isaac as he sat down in one of the armchairs by the fire, his cane resting against the back of the chair.

"Sorry," whispered the traveler. After finishing its story, Sarah had taken the kids upstairs for the night. It had been like catching mice with your hands tied. After a full ten minutes and no small amount of running they had finally herded the rambunctious children upstairs with the promise of another story the following night. The traveler could hear their footsteps above them as the young woman worked to get the children into bed.

"But four thousand gold coins? What on earth possessed you to ask Richard for that?" asked the traveler as it took the chair next to Isaac. "I could live like a king on that much gold back east."

"Necessity." Isaac wriggled himself into the armchair until he decided it achieved the conformation he wanted. "After a straight year of bad luck my fleet was down from twenty ships to just two. The happenings were more frequent, the house was starting to fall apart, more orphans were coming here every month, and my business partners were leaving to cut their own losses. They told me to get out before I went broke, but how could I? I promised Sarah's mother I'd keep the orphanage going, and I needed the fleet to do that. It was a no-win situation. Needed the profits from the fleet to keep the orphanage going and Sarah studying medicine, but needed the money that paid for the orphanage to keep the fleet going."

"Medicine?" asked the traveler with genuine surprise. "Women can become doctors here?"

"Aye, that and more," said Isaac. "Things really changed when Princess Ariel married our king. That woman's got a heart as pure as snow and big as the ocean is wide. Used to go walking around the town when things were better, saying hello to every person like you were an old friend. Always ready to lend a kind word and a helping hand to anyone who needed it. Funded the schools and opened them to women, helped feed the poor, got our sea trade booming-I could go on all night about the good she's done for us these past twenty years. You should see the hospital she's having built. She's more of a saint to us than a queen."

The traveler leaned back in its chair. Royalty funding schools instead of armies. Kingdoms building hospitals instead of war machines. Women able to go to school and even become doctors instead of fated to marry young and become housewives dependent on their husbands. Queens that would stroll among the common folk unguarded instead of riding in armored carriages flanked by guards armed with guns and swords. The west truly was a different place-no, a better place. "I take it she isn't in school anymore?"

A dejected expression fell across Isaac's face. "You have Richard-may the cooks burn his meat and the rocks break his carriage- and I to thank for that. After my partners left I was on my own to get the fleet seaworthy again. I went everywhere I could for a loan, but they all turned me down. Everyone was starting to feel the effects of the happenings. Soon Richard was the only one left. Sarah pleaded with me not to go, but I didn't listen. By my beard I wish I had! The way he looked at us when he met us at the door...like a shark watches a ship heading for rocks. He acted civil enough, the silver-tongued snake. Had this big fancy-worded document written up. I'm a fisherman, not a scholar. I could barely make sense of it, and Sarah didn't do much better. All I could gather was that he would loan us money for three ships and full crews for each of them. In exchange I would pay him back for the cost of the ships and the crews, with interest, over the next three years. I know how much my ships can bring in with a good haul. We would have been able to pay him back no problem. I signed the contract and got my ships."

"And that's when he changed the contract?"

"No," said Isaac. "That's not what did us in. For a while it looked like we would keep our end of the deal. We were putting food on the table every night and paying back what we owed on schedule. The ships were catching fish again, Sarah was still studying, and the house was starting to come back together."

"So what happened?"

"More bad luck. Or that's what I thought it was at first." Isaac leaned forward, his face turning serious as he stared at the stove. "Six months later a hurricane hit. Sunk the ships like rocks…three perfectly good ships with crews I handpicked! By some miracle the crews survived. But our hope of paying back our loan went down with those ships. We needed the full fleet to make our payments on time." Isaac did not mention that his crews had survived in great part thanks to a group of merfolk in the area. The residents of Seahaven avoided talking about the merfolk and Atlantica around outsiders, or in public for that matter. They had put a strong effort into building a friendly relationship with their undersea neighbors. The last thing they wanted was hunters and fishermen trying to catch a mermaid for fame or fortune because of their gossiping.

"That's when Richard struck." Isaac gripped his knee as though he was trying to drive his fingers into it. "He changed the schedule for our payments and upped the amount of money he wanted with each one. I tried to negotiate with him, but he had put it in the contract that he could change the contract however he wanted. He even added a fee for 'damage to property.' He bled our coffers like stuck pigs. We had to start choosing between putting food on the table and making the payments. Sarah had to quit school when I took ill. I've had to rely on her for my health since we can't afford the doctor any more. We finally saw Richard's true nature. His goons would harass the children when he came to collect. He started pestering Sarah whenever he got the chance. A year and a half we've had to put up with this, and we still owe him three thousand gold coin's value. He's been pressuring me to accept a marriage agreement for Sarah in exchange for forgiving the debt, but I won't have it. Her mother would rise from the grave for my soul if I even thought about considering it." Isaac gave a heavy sigh and rubbed his face. "But that's not the worst of it."

"It isn't?" asked the traveler, wondering how Isaac's misfortune could get any worse at this point.

"Richard's a vulture, and like all vultures I smelled something foul about the whole situation. I know my men. They're as meticulous as they are seaworthy. There's not a loose thread on a sail, a knot in a net, or splinter on the helm that they don't notice. They've sailed in hurricanes before and lived to tell the tale. So I talked with them. Got their side of the story. They all told the same thing. Found all sorts of wrong on those ships that wasn't there before. Tangled or cut ropes, ripped sails, cracked wood, kinked chains..." Isaac gave a low growl. Suddenly he pounded his fist on the armchair, causing one of the seams on a nearby patch to burst. "That bastard sabotaged my ships!" he shouted. "He was playing me from the start! Strung me along like a marionette to his tune! I don't have proof, but I know he's responsible! Him and those muscle bound thugs!"

The sound of a girl crying came from upstairs, followed by a pair of footsteps racing down the stairs. A moment later an irritated Sarah appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She held a heavily tarnished candlestick holder in her hand, the small flame dancing on the short remains of the candle.

"Well done, dad!" she scolded. "You woke Jenni up! You know how yelling scares her."

Isaac cursed quietly. "I'll take care of it," he grumbled as he reached for his cane. He started to get up when a fit of violent coughing forced him to sit back down. His chest heaved with each hack, the pain evident on his scrunched face and trembling limbs. The traveler bolted to its feet as Sarah rushed over to her father's side.

"Dad! Are you alright?"

Isaac gave a few more coughs before the fit subsided. "I'm fine," he wheezed, although the lack of color in his face said otherwise. "Just give me a hand up."

Sarah pushed her father back down into his chair. "You're not fine. Just stay there. I'll get you something for that cough after I take care of Jenni."

"I'll take care of Jenni," said the traveler. "You get the tea. I'll get her to sleep in no time."

Sarah looked at the traveler with surprise and mild concern. "Are you sure? I'm not sure if she would-."

"It's all right." The traveler walked around the chair, placing a reassuring hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm good with kids."

Sarah considered declining the traveler's offer, but there was something in its touch that made her feel the same sense of trust she felt after they escaped from Richard. She had seen the way Jenni looked at the traveler. She had never looked at anyone that way before. "Second floor. It's the first door on your right at the top of the stairs," she said, offering the candle to her guest.

"Got it." The traveler took the candle and headed up the stairs, leaving Sarah to her ailing father. It ascended the last step to find itself facing a long hallway lined with doors. A pair of oil lanterns hanging from the flat ceiling cast a flickering orange light down the corridor. A flight of stairs at the opposite end disappeared above the ceiling to the third floor. Faint footsteps could be heard from above. Some doors had ornate but tarnished brass doorknobs. Others were missing theirs entirely, the knobs either replaced with simple iron handles, rope loops, or nothing at all. Several doors were splintered where the knobs had been. The traveler would have bet Richard's thugs had ripped them free. The traveler could hear the muted sounds of whispering children not yet ready to go to Dreamland, as well as the sniffles and whimpers of a young girl from the knob-less door to its right.

'_Must be this one_.' The traveler reached for the rope door handle but then hesitated. It looked to the window above the stairs it had just climbed. A ghostly reflection of itself was visible in the glass against the darkening sky, its true visage hidden beneath the shemagh and goggles. It looked rather menacing. Walking into the room at night with its face covered by a shemagh and goggles with only a flickering candle for illumination would probably have the opposite effect of helping Jenni sleep. It would probably stir up memories of the bandit attack. As much as the traveler wanted to keep its identity hidden, it would need to lose the disguise if it did not want the screaming to resume. Not that its normal appearance was any less scary to most people.

The traveler looked down the hall and then over the stairs, making sure no eyes were spying from either direction. Satisfied no one would see, it undid the knot holding the shemagh in place and pulled it down around its neck, then moved the goggles up onto its head. It looked back in the window. It was the first time it had seen its face in weeks. Perhaps scary was not the right word to describe its face. Shocking seemed more appropriate.

Smoothing a few wayward hairs back in place, the traveler knocked gently on the door. "Jenni? It's Hood. You mind if I come in?" There were a few more sniffles, then the traveler heard an unmistakable "uh-huh" from inside.

Taking a deep breath and praying its face would not give the little girl new nightmares, the traveler opened the door.

* * *

"Watch out!"

The traveler came out of its thoughts to see a horse-drawn cart rolling straight at it. Instinctively the traveler rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding being run over as the cart clattered past it. The hem of its cloak ripped slightly as it caught under the wheel of the cart.

"Eyes up, lady!" said the driver as he continued down the road, not slowing in the slightest.

"Same goes to you, bub!" shouted the traveler as it got up, not bothering to mask its voice. It dusted its cloak off, being careful not to let the cloak slip and give away its disguise. Not that its evasive maneuver and sudden change in voice would break the camouflage. It checked itself for anything that could give away its identity. The worst was the tear in the hem and the dirt that had found its way onto the cloak. If anything, the dirt and rip added to the disguise. The traveler put its weight back on the bokken and resumed its hobbling gate.

The traveler gripped its bokken tighter in irritation. It was not the close encounter with the horse that was the cause of its annoyance. It was its inability to find a simple solution to Sarah and Isaac's plight. After getting Jenni to sleep-who amazingly had not been fazed by the traveler's face in the least and even promised twice not to tell anyone- the traveler had moved silently out to the field around the orphanage to watch the stars. It spent all night thinking about how it could help these people who had welcomed it into their home, hoping that it would find an answer amidst the thousands of sky diamonds hanging in the inky cloudless sky.

It could give them Kodama's gold and jewels. It was more money than the traveler knew what to do with. The small fortune would take a sizable chunk out of their debt, but it would not come anywhere close to fixing it. The two bags could not be worth more than five hundred gold coins at best. It would certainly take the financial pressure off them, but once it ran out they would be right back to their current predicament.

The simplest solution was going back to Kodama for more jewels and gold. He had piles as high as the orphanage and no use for any of it. The traveler doubted Kodama would have any problem parting with them. But there were flaws with that plan. Kodama was at least a three-day's journey by horse and even longer by foot. The route would take it straight into the Howling Forest, a place that had become a hotbed for bandits, slavers and, worst of all, werewolves. Using "that" would allow the traveler to make the trip in less than a day while avoiding the dangers of the forest, but the risk of discovery was too great. The traveler also risked luring men into Kodama's domain if they learned where it was getting the jewels and gold from, especially if one of those men was Richard himself. Besides, the traveler felt that it would be taking advantage of its benefactor if it relied on him.

There was also Richard to worry about. The noble would be looking to avenge his twisted sense of honor. The traveler had no doubts that Isaac and Sarah would do their best to keep him and his lackeys off its trail, but there was no telling if Richard would try to harass them again for his own entertainment. Disappearing into the mountains for even a few days would put its new friends in danger. It could also raise Richard's suspicions if Sarah and Isaac suddenly produced a steady flow of money out of nowhere. He might take advantage of their newfound finances and try to cheat them again. So what was the traveler to do?

The traveler hobbled its way onto the street that would take it to The Mermaid's Trove, still considering its options. The best solution it could think of was also the slowest. It would find an honest job here and donate its wages to the orphanage in return for staying there. The extra money would take some of the edge off their plight, but it would not be much. Not with the sort of jobs the traveler could get in Seahaven. It did not have a particularly diverse skill set. Fighting and magic were its specialties. They had been great assets back east, but there was no place for them in this kingdom. Even if the traveler had not sworn to never return to its former occupation, there was not enough of a resource pool in Seahaven for that job to very profitable. No one would be looking to hire bodyguards in such a peaceful town. It had no desire to bind itself to the military. It did not even want to know what would happen if it went around using magic.

The Mermaid's Trove came into view. The oak door, white washed walls, and hanging wood sign looked no different than the day before. What was different was the black buggy sitting by the door, a familiar sleepy driver sitting at the reins. The hair on the traveler's neck stood straight up. Richard was here. It could feel it. It may just be a coincidence, but after the events of yesterday the traveler doubted its hunch was unfounded. The traveler quickly moved into the shadows of an alley across from the tavern, tucking its bokken well under its cloak.

Suddenly the tavern door flew open. "Hood!? What sort of name is that!? It's obviously fake, you geriatric oaf!" shouted a familiar noble's voice. There was a heavy crash of something being upturned, and then Richard stormed out with Bill and Jack close behind. He was dressed in a blue and silver version of the doublet he had worn yesterday, complete with white jacket and pants. He was clearly flustered. His cheeks had a rosy tint to them from anger and his jacket was slightly crooked. The traveler felt a small bit of relief when it saw Richard's sword and his guard's knives were absent.

John appeared in the doorway, drying a mug just like before. He did not look scared this time. The traveler would have bet its father's sword that he was enjoying Richard's tantrum. "I'm terri'ly sorry, Lord Richard, but I don' know anythin' else about 'im. No one does. He didn' say much an' he ne'er showed his face."

"Are you all blind or just plain incompetent?" spat Richard as he climbed into the buggy, the bald man following suit while the bearded one held the door open. "He was in your tavern. He ate your food. He attacked me and then my men before running out that door! The entire tavern saw him do it! Someone had to see his face or get his real name!"

The bearded man walked up to the bartender and leaned menacingly over him. "Spill it, gramps," he growled, prodding his finger into John's chest. "Who's Hood and what's he look like? You'se better not be hiding him. You know what we'll do if you are."

The traveler expected John to fold under the giant's threat. Any normal or smart man would. Instead he swatted the man's finger with his mug and got right up in his face. "If ye've got a brain in tha' skull then use it," snapped John angrily, poking the man in his forehead. "I'm no fool. Ye think I'd risk my ta'ern fer a single girl and some stranger with a tablecloth round his 'ead?"

The bearded man looked like he was trying to think of something clever to say but the words were getting clogged in his head. The traveler could not keep a small chuckle from escaping as it watched. If the bearded man concentrated any more he was liable to faint.

"As I was sayin," continued John as he marched up to the buggy. He stared Richard down as though he was trying to win a contest. "I've told ye a dozen times already, but I'll tell ye again so I make myself clear. I don' know what he looks like or what he's called an' neither does any of my staff. So quit askin' fer the impossible. He came in, said 'is name was Hood, paid fer a meal, drank one mug o' ale, somehow managed to crush tha' mug, tried to 'buy' Sarah for the afternoon, attacked ye, and then grabbed Sarah and dragged the hapless girl out the door. I 'aven't seen so much as a whisper o' either of 'em since yesterday an' I hope to ne'er see that man again. Yer wastin' yer time lookin' fer him here."

The traveler thought Richard was going to blow his top with the way John spoke to him. He clearly wanted to assault the man for talking to him in such a brazen manner. He was turning red as a tomato as he fought to maintain his decorum, his clenched fist trembling at his side. For a moment it looked as though he would leap off the buggy for the bartender's throat. The traveler started getting its bokken into position for a quick draw, ready to intervene if things got violent. Then Richard unclenched his fist, the color fading from his face as he brought his anger under control.

"I see." He pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and dabbed gently at his brow. The traveler had to cover its mouth to keep from laughing. He looked the definition of a pompous aristocratic brat. "Well, if you do see him again or learn anything more you let me know immediately." Richard reached into his jacket and produced a bronze coin. "I promise to make it worth your while," he said as he tossed the coin to John.

The bartender snatched the coin out of midair. He looked it over, bit it, and then put it in his apron pocket. "Aye, will do, sir. If ye find that scum give 'im one fer casing a ruckus in my tavern. Two if he did anythin' to Sarah."

Richard gave a cruel grin as the bearded man boarded the buggy. "I'll do more than that, I assure you."

The traveler could have let Richard drive away right then, but it was in the mood for some mischief. Why have Richard searching the town for it when the traveler could have him searching elsewhere? In particular, looking in circles far away from Seahaven? Richard sounded vengeful and offended enough that he would go chasing any chance at catching 'Hood.' A plan had already formed in its mind. All it needed to do was point Richard in the right direction-or rather, the wrong one.

The traveler pulled the edge of the hood lower and hobbled over beside Richard's buggy. "Could you spare a few coins for a hungry old woman, sir?" croaked the traveler, using its best 'old granny' voice as it held up its hand like a beggar.

The bald man leaned over the side of the buggy. "Beat it, you old crone!" he barked. "Lord Richard doesn't have time for rabble like you!"

"Yeah," said the bearded man. "Scram before we make you!"

The traveler stumbled away in theatrical fear, resisting the urge to drag the bald man to the street by his nostrils. It would be easy with how far he was leaning out. "Well, I never!" The traveler shifted its cloak and turned to leave, grumbling as it hobbled. It was time to bait the hook. "Such rude manners! At least the masked man apologized for bumping into me."

"Wait!"

The traveler grinned. Richard had taken the bait. It turned to see said noble practically falling over the side of the buggy. "Old woman, please tell me! This masked fellow, what did he look like?"

"I could not say," said the traveler as it hobbled back over. "I never saw his face. He had a green cloth wrapped 'round his head and strange glasses over his eyes. Carried an odd looking sword with him too."

"That's him!" said Richard excitedly. His hand fumbled inside his jacket for another coin. "When did you see him? And where?" he asked, offering up the coin to the traveler.

The traveler made sure to let its arm tremble as it held out its hand, not wanting to break the illusion of age. "Just this morning on the north side of town. Nearly ran me over as he went running down the road and barely mumbled an apology before he was off again. He seemed to be in a terrible hurry about something." The coin fell into its hand.

Richard turned to the buggy driver. "The north road, and make it snappy!" The driver mumbled sleepily but remained still. "NOW!" barked Richard. The man practically jumped out of his seat as he snapped wide-awake. He fumbled for the reins and clicked the horse into a fast trot.

"Thank you, madam!" called Richard as the buggy clattered down the street. "You have been most helpful!" Moments later the buggy rounded a corner and disappeared, heading off for a wild goose chase that would take them far away from Seahaven.

The traveler was pinching its thigh to keep from laughing as it walked up to the tavern. That had worked better than it hoped. Richard had not only been within arms reach of his assailant without knowing it, but he had just given the traveler his own money! He had not even noticed the 'walking stick' even when it was right under his nose. If a cloak, a bad voice, and false information were all it took to outwit Richard, then staying hidden in Seahaven was going to be easier than the traveler had thought.

John spat in Richard's direction before going inside. "Smug lil' brat. I hope Hood finds ye first. Preferably in an alley...at night... wi' a heavy piece of wood. Heck, I'd lend 'im ten mugs to practice squishin' yer head on if it 'elps."

'_That answers my question about what he really thinks of us both_,' thought the traveler.

The bartender was about to close the door when he pulled the coin out of his apron. "Here, marm," he said, offering it to the traveler as it approached the door. "I'd ra'er starve than take anythin' from that scavenger."

The traveler passed by John and into the tavern, ignoring the coin and the bartender's confused stare. It cast a quick eye around the room. The crowd from yesterday was nonexistent. Even the waitresses were absent at this early hour. John and it were the only people inside the entire tavern. If it was just John...yes, that would be fine.

"I'm sorry, marm," said John apologetically, "but the kitchen's aren't goin' yet. If ye're lookin' fer a bite to eat, ye can come back in an hour o' two and I can 'ave somethin' made for ye."

"No thanks," said the traveler, returning to the voice it had used the day before as it abandoned its stooped posture. "I ate already. And keep the coin. I owe you for a bottle of wine and a mug anyway." As the traveler spoke it lets its voice return to its natural tone.

John nearly dropped the coin, the mug, and his jaw to the floor. He quickly bolted the door shut and scrambled over in front of the traveler, leaning down to try and catch a glimpse of its face. "Hood? Is that ye under there, lad?"

The traveler whipped the cloak off in a flourish, flinging it onto a nearby chair. It spun its bokken like a baton, bringing the wooden blade to rest over its shoulder. The traveler stood with its true visage exposed to the bartender. "The one and only!"

Now John did drop the mug, the coin, and his jaw to the floor. He had already formed a mental image of what Hood looked like under his disguise the moment he entered the tavern yesterday. Suffice to say he had been off. Completely. "Oh...my."

The traveler gave a cheeky lopsided grin. "Now then..." It reached an arm around the slack-jawed man's shoulders and pulled him close as it walked him towards the kitchens. "I know you promised a month of meals in exchange for dealing with Prince Charmless, but I could really use a job instead. So how about you and I make a new deal?"

* * *

"Absolutely not!"

"No way!"

"Don't even think about it!"

"Not in your wildest dreams!"

"Not going!"

"Humph!"

Attina floated with arms crossed in the middle of the Atlantican palace's throne room. Behind her were her sisters Aquata, Andrina, Adella, Arista, and Alana. Only Attina and Arista looked different from their younger days. As the oldest, Attina was the only one of her sisters to show the first signs of age. Her hair a shade lighter than it had been when her rebellious youngest sister went onto land. Arista had retained her youthful appearance, but her slightly distended stomach was a dead-giveaway to the progress of her first pregnancy. None of the princesses looked happy at being there or with the direction the conversation was taking.

King Triton sat on his throne with Sebastian and Urchin at his sides, the trident resting in its pedestal. The king looked as tired as his advisors, all of them suffering a lack of sleep and not enough daylight hours to do everything else in. Both Triton and Urchin's beards looked unkempt and tangled. Triton could practically feel the wrinkles forming under his beard. Urchin wavered slightly as exhaustion toyed with his balance. Even the red of Sebastian's shell seemed dulled by the stress.

"Girls, please," pleaded Triton tiredly. "This is not my ideal choice either, but it is the best one available to you."

"I am not going on land!" said Attina, looking just as angry as her father did when his temper broke. "My place is right here!"

"This is our home," said Adella from the back. "We won't abandon it."

"You always said you'd never give in to threats, dad," said Arista, swimming up to join Attina. "And we're not going to either. I won't be scared out of the sea."

Triton pinched the bridge of his nose. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now. Why had he ever thought this would go over smoothly? It felt like he was arguing with six teenage Ariels at once. He had expected some resistance, but not a blatant refusal from all of them. Now he had to find a way to convince them without losing his temper, which at that moment was starting to heat up.

"Your highnesses, be reasonable," asked Urchin. "It's not safe here for you or any of your families right now. Think about your family's health as well as your own. Especially you, Arista."

"You stay out of this, Urchin!" snapped the blonde mermaid. Urchin shrunk back slightly, wary of the quick temper the princess had inherited from her father.

"Listen to de merman, girls," said Sebastian, swimming up to rest on the arm of Triton's throne. "We're not asking you to stay out of de ocean forever. Tink of dis as an extended vacation. Just until tings are a bit safer, and den you can all come back home."

"I'm not leaving you and dad to take care of this alone," said Attina defiantly. "I'm the future queen of Atlantica, and if I'm going to be ruler one day then I can't be intimidated into running away to some random beach because of a rash of spooks and the threats of a sea witch and her sharkanian lackeys." A murmur of agreement came from the mermaids behind her.

Triton took several deep breaths, trying to keep his frayed nerves from snapping. "I understand your point, Attina. Normally I would agree with you, but there is nothing normal about this situation. We still do not know what sort of enemy we are up against, how many of them there are, or how strong their force is. And Seahaven is not some random beach. You were just there barely a week ago. Your sister and brother-in-law have already agreed to take all of you in."

"That was a pool of water in a pavilion. What you're talking about is something completely different!"

"Why land?" asked Aquata. "You said yourself that Eric and Ariel have problems of their own to deal with. Isn't there somewhere in the sea we could go to instead? Why would the land be any safer than the sea?"

"Because land is not where Morgana and Ursula are," answered Triton.

"And I'm supposed to feel safe there after what happened to Melody? I think she'd disagree with you on that," said Arista sarcastically.

Just like in humans, there is a limit to how much stress and backtalk a merman or mermaid can take. And when that limit is breached they snap just like a human does. And after everything that had happened in the past week and before, combined with his daughters digging their fins in the sand, Triton reached his and boiled over like an unattended pot of pasta.

"Enough!" Triton banged his fist on the throne so hard that Sebastian bounced up into the water. All of the princesses flinched, still wary of their father's wrath even as adults. Even Urchin shied back from the throne as Triton shot out of it. The trident glowed red in response to the king's anger.

"This is not a request!" shouted Triton, his voice echoing throughout the throne room and beyond. "I am still your father and the king, and as long as you are in this ocean you will follow my rules! I will not have my family added to the body count of those witches or their cohorts! You and your families are going to Seahaven and that...is...final!"

Six princesses, one crab, and a battle-scarred merman looked at the king as though he had sprouted a second head. Had King Triton, ruler of Atlantica, commander and chief of the seven seas, formerly known for his hatred towards humans and the surface world, just _ordered_ his own daughters to take their families onto land? King Triton, who had spent the majority of his life preaching the dangers of the land like a broken record? Who even now avoided the surface as much as possible?

Triton stayed upright for a moment, his face flushed and muscles bulging with his anger. It seemed his bracers might snap off if his forearms flexed any more. Then he seemed to deflate like a balloon. He sank back into his throne as though he had been dropped, the trident becoming quiet once more. He pressed his hands to his forehead, shoulders stooped with the weight of his kingly duties and fatherly concern.

"I'm sorry," he said, the fire gone from his voice. He sounded like a tired old merman instead of a king. "I did not mean to shout. It's just..." Triton gave up on finishing his sentence, failing to find the words he needed to describe how he felt.

Attina swam over to her father, genuinely concerned by what she was seeing. None of them had ever seen Triton in such a state. He was always the picture of vitality and leadership even under pressure. To see him weighed down like this was not just strange. It was scary.

"Father?" Triton turned to Attina. She could see wrinkles on his face that had not been there before, and dark half-moons underneath his eyes. Had he always looked this old? "Be honest. We've all heard rumors, but how bad is it really?"

Triton gave a tired sigh. "It has never been worse." He swam over to his daughters, Attina, Urchin, and Sebastian following close behind. Attina went to join her sisters while Sebastian settled onto the floor beside them. Urchin stayed by his king's side. The princesses looked at their father with eyes filled with questions he had no answers for. He remembered when they had been small enough for him to hold in one hand. They were not babies anymore. They were grown mermaids now. Nearly forty years had somehow passed in the blink of an eye.

"I know we have faced conflicts in Atlantica before-several of which were thanks to your baby sister," he said, remembering Ariel's 'adventures' as a teenager, "but this is not a conflict we are facing. This could become a war. You girls were fortunate to not experience war as you grew up, and I had hoped our family never would again. That may no longer be possible. Whoever is behind all of this is more powerful than any foe Atlantica has ever faced. Perhaps even more powerful than the trident."

The girls looked between themselves, clearly disturbed by their father's words. They had always thought the trident was unequaled in power. For there to be anyone or anything that could surpass it was beyond belief to them.

Triton put his arms around the mermaids, his reach still large enough to do so. "You girls are the most precious thing your mother gave me, and I promised her that I would look after you. I would give my life to protect all of you. I wish I could leave this war in Sebastian and Urchin's capable hands and claws, and devote myself to your safety. But I am a king as well as your father. I cannot abandon my duties to Atlantica and its people. If there were another way I would do it. But if something happened to even one of you...I cannot even imagine it." Triton released his daughters and lowered himself to their eye level. "So I am asking you, as your father who loves you more than you could ever know...please go to Seahaven. For my sake as well as your own."

For a long while no one said anything. The princesses shifted nervously as they took in their father's words. The silence was becoming unbearable when someone finally spoke.

"I'll go."

Everyone looked to Andrina. The pink-tailed mermaid was usually the talker in the group, but this was the first time she had spoken since they arrived. She swam over to her father's side so she could face her sisters.

"Dad is right. This is not like one of Ariel's adventures gone awry. We all remember how dangerous the sea witches were. Ursula tricked a lot of people into becoming her slaves, and she tried multiple times to take over the oceans. Morgana came closer than anyone else to actually doing it- not once, but twice. If they really are back and out for revenge, then I want to be as far away from them as possible, even if it means going on land. I don't like the idea any more than the rest of you. To be honest, it feels like I'm running away. But if it means keeping my family safe, then that's what I'll do."

The princesses looked at the floor, letting their sister's words sink in. For a moment they wavered between refusal and acceptance. Then, one by one they lifted their heads.

"I'll go too," said Aquata.

"Me three," said Alana.

"The kids are going to hate this, but we'll do it," added Adella.

Attina sighed in defeat. "I'm still against this, but I'll go."

Arista pulled a face and crossed her arms. "Fine..." she muttered

Triton gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I promise we will do our best to rid the ocean of this menace and have you back home as quickly as possible. And you will not be going unaccompanied. Sebastian will be going with you."

"Of course your majes..." The crab's eyes bulged. "Wait, me!? But-but-but-."

Triton looked down at Sebastian. "I need someone to keep an eye on them and the situation on land, and you are the best crab for the job."

"Well, yes, but...why not send Urchin, your majesty? He's bettah on de land dan me, and he'd be able to protect dem bettah, too."

"I need Urchin here. He is my best captain and already leading the search for the witches. I cannot send him away with things as they are."

"But what about de kingdom?" exclaimed Sebastian as he swam up to face Triton. "Who's gonna be your advisor and make sure dat everything stays in order?"

"Urchin and I will have to make due." Triton scooped Sebastian up with his hand and brought him closer. "Sebastian, you are my most trusted advisor and one of my closest friends. You looked after my daughters and then their children as though they were your own. There is no one else I would ask to do this. I am asking you, not as your king but as your friend, if you would watch over them for me one more time."

Sebastian turned to the princesses. They might have been all grown up now, but to him they were still "de girls." He could remember when they were all newborns, barely even able to swim. He was there when they took their first swim, spoke their first words, had their first heartbreaks, met their true loves, and started families of their own. He had been with them from the start, and he had already sworn to himself he would be with them to the end.

The little red crab stood a little bit taller as he turned back to Triton. "Sire, it would be my honor."

Trident smiled proudly at the crab. "Thank you, my dear friend," he said as he set Sebastian back down on the floor. The crab quickly scurried over to Urchin. "Now den, come with me, mon. If you're gonna be advising to de king, dere's some tings you gotta know." The merman and crab wandered to the edge of the throne room.

"So...when do we go?" asked Aquata.

"Five weeks," answered Triton. "That is when the Seahaven Festival is happening. That will give you time to tell your families and make preparations."

"I hate to ask the obvious question," said Attina, "but how are we going to go on land? Are you going to change all of us when the time comes?"

"Not exactly..." Triton clapped his hands. An octopus swam out from behind one of the pillars carrying a large coral tray. The plate held eight colored jade rings. Six rested on top of small woven sea grass bags while two lay alone. The princesses quickly noticed that at least one ring matched the colors of their tails. There was one sea green ring that was a perfect match to Ariel's tail. The only ring that was out of place was a dark blue one.

"I had these specially made," said Triton as he took the tray form the octopus. "I think you can guess which ones are yours. And take the bags underneath as well."

The mermaid's hesitantly picked up their rings. They were perfectly smooth and circular. Attina slipped her reddish-orange ring onto her middle finger. It was several sizes too large. Immediately the ring gave a faint golden glow and shrunk until it formed a perfect fit around her finger. Then the glow faded away, leaving only the polished stone surface. She gave it a few pulls to remove it, but it refused to come free. She looked to her sisters. They were either putting their own rings on or trying to remove them with the same difficulty. Attina gave a few more pulls before the ring grudgingly came free. She turned her attention to the sea grass bag. She rolled it in her hand and felt three rings inside. Enough for her husband and their two children.

"What are these?" she asked, holding the ring up to the light. It sparkled like solid fire between her fingers.

"You will remember I put a spell on Melody's locket so she could become a mermaid," said Triton. "These rings will do the opposite."

"You mean...we'll become human?" asked Alana, her eyes wide with surprise.

Triton nodded. "The rules are the same in principle. The spell only works if you are completely out of the water and wish to become a human. If you go back in you will return to your true forms." Triton picked up the green and dark blue rings and handed them to Attina. "Give these to Ariel and Eric when you see them."

"Why would Eric need one of these?" asked Attina.

"For escape."

"Escape? From what?"

"I want you all to listen closely," said Triton. The six princesses turned their attention back to their father. "There is a reason I am giving you these instead of changing you all directly. You will be safe with your sister, but that does not mean the land is harmless. As Adella said, there have been strange happenings up there as well. We may not fear the surface as we once did, but it still has unique dangers just like the sea. If at any time it becomes too dangerous for you to remain on land, I want all of you to return here immediately with your sister's family. Without these rings...well, I do not have to tell you what would happen."

The mermaid's looked at their rings. The thought that these beautiful stones could mean the difference between life and death seemed to draw away from their beauty. They suddenly felt heavier in their hands, as though their true purpose had added a physical burden to them.

Triton watched as his daughters investigated the contents of their bags and the rings. They chatted quietly among themselves, sharing their hesitation, anxiety, and excitement with each other. To his side he heard Sebastian starting to lecture Urchin on how 'not' to polish the trident. Triton wondered when he would be able to see a scene like this again. These peaceful moments would disappear once the war came.

And Triton was certain a war was coming.

* * *

Evening was beginning to settle over Seahaven. The sun burned the sky orange as it began its descent out of the heavens. Down in the streets the crowd had thinned slightly. People scurried about to finish their last errands before going home. Shopkeepers were already starting to prepare for closing. The day guards were switching out with the evening shift, heading to their homes, their favorite drinking spot, or back to the castle.

The sounds of a growing night crowd could be heard from The Mermaid's Trove. The din got louder for a brief moment as the door opened. "Aw, c'mon!" called a drunken male voice from inside the tavern. "Stick 'round and hhhave a 'rink with us."

The traveler exited the building. Its cloak was wrapped tight around its body, the hood left down. The bokken was tucked well under the cloak, for once not being used as a walking stick.

"Next time," the traveler called back as it exited the building. "You've had enough already. Any more and you'll be dancing on the table."

"If someone'll do the singing an' the mushic then I'll do the... the... dancing!" The tavern erupted into laughter as the drunk man broke out into his inebriated version of a jig. Moments later the singing and music started in earnest.

The traveler smiled and shook its head before closing the door, the sounds of the tavern muffled once more. '_I think I'm going to enjoy this new job_.' The traveler gave its cloak a quick adjustment and headed off towards the plaza. It would make sure to put its shemagh and goggles back on before it got to the orphanage. There was a metallic jingle to its stride as the day's earnings danced in its pocket with each step.

It had been a good day for the traveler. It had been slightly concerned that John might give away who it was-something it wished it had thought of 'before' removing its cloak- but after the man swore "on the black 'eart o' my mother-in-law to bury myself in me own grave" before giving up the traveler's identity, it had abandoned such thoughts. He had been shocked when he saw the traveler's face. It took the man a full minute to speak properly again. There had been a brief discussion about Richard discovering the traveler's identity, but the traveler reminded John that Richard had never seen its face or heard its real name. After more discussion John finally agreed to give the traveler a trial run as a bartender. The regulars had been confused to find someone new working the bar, but the traveler quickly got the hang of it and was serving up drinks and chatting with customers like a true bartender by noon. John had been impressed to say the least and offered the traveler a job. Even more discussion followed, and it was decided that the traveler would work the bar at night starting the next day. The traveler would be able to collect more tips that way. And because Sarah worked the day shifts, the traveler would be able to keep its identity hidden at the same time. It was not a lack of trust in its new friend that made it hesitate to reveal the truth to her. It was the hold that Richard still had over her.

The traveler patted its pocket proudly, feeling the shape of the coins through the fabric. '_My first honest coin here. And I didn't have to swing a sword to get it._'

A commotion near the fountain caught the traveler's attention as it entered the plaza. People were gathering around an elegantly designed white carriage next to the water feature. A group of guards carrying long spears surrounded it. An elderly man with an unusually narrow and serious face dressed in a fine black jacket stood on top of the carriage. He waved his hands for silence, an official looking scroll in his right hand.

A pair of young boys raced past the traveler. "Come on!" said the lead boy. "Grimsby is going to announce the king's decision on the festival!"

"I hope he didn't cancel the tournament!" said his companion as they disappeared into the crowd.

The traveler's interest was immediately piqued. It had heard no shortage of stories about the Seahaven Festival that day. The tavern patrons could not keep hopeful excitement from creeping into their voices when they spoke of it. They described endless rows of colored tents in the fields. Performances by magicians, dancers, and entertainers from far and wide attracted crowds young and old. And the Tournament of Champions was the centerpiece of it all. The traveler had never been to a festival. War-torn and poverty-stricken lands like the east were no place for such things. It secretly wanted to go as much as the boys did.

"May I have your attention, please," said the man on the carriage, his voice carrying over the noise of the crowd remarkably well. The noise quickly fell away. "Thank you. I, Sir Grimsby, royal advisor to their majesties King Eric and Queen Ariel, bring you-."

"Skip the speech, Grimsby!" shouted a man in the crowd. "I'll be old as you by the time you finish yer fancy-talk!" A peal of poorly stifled laughter and several agreements went through the crowd.

Grimsby adjusted his collar, his annoyance at being interrupted evident on his face. "Yes...well," he continued, unfurling the scroll. "As I was saying, I have a message from their majesties concerning the Seahaven Festival and the Tournament of Champions."

A murmur of excited whispering came from the crowd. The change in mood was tangible to the traveler. There was a tension in the air that had not been there before.

"In light of recent events, the king and queen have decided that the Seahaven Festival..." Grimsby paused for a moment, getting a spot of revenge on the crowd for the earlier disruption. The crowd held its breath. The traveler was just as anxious as they were. '_Please don't be canceled. Please don't be canceled._'

"... Will take place in five weeks as originally planned." The crowd let out a collective sigh of relief and excited cheers. Even the traveler let go of a breath it had not realized it was holding.

"The tournament!" shouted a boy. "What about the tournament?"

"I am getting to that!" snapped Grimsby. "Honestly, the impatience of some people...as for the Tournament of Champions, it will also be taking place as planned." There was more cheering from the crowd.

"However, the following changes have been made." The cheering disappeared as quickly as it had started. "One: The qualifications for admittance to the Champion's Round have been raised. These qualifications will be made clear at the preliminary events for anyone wishing to participate. Two: entry into the Champion's Round will be given only to competitors who meet the qualification requirements for a minimum of four of the five preliminary events." There were groans from the crowd, mostly from hopeful competitors.

The traveler's curiosity was in full swing now. Based on what it heard in the tavern, getting to the Champion's Round was hard enough already. Why such drastic changes? With these new "qualifications" he spoke of, getting to the Champion's Round would be even more difficult. Only the very best would stand a chance competing before the king and queen, not to mention winning the prize money and the glory of victory.

The traveler was seriously considering entering the tournament. It was an excellent fighter. The money would go a long way towards settling the orphanage's debt. This would not be like a fighter's tournament back east. The closest thing to this back there was underground fighting rings and gladiator events where men slaughtered each other. An honest competition between fellow fighters would be...

The traveler stopped itself. It had not traveled countless miles through worm-riddled deserts and snow-covered mountains just so it could go back to fighting. The whole reason it had come west was to never fight again. It had spilled enough blood. Yet hearing about the tournament still stirred the warrior inside the traveler, and the hope of finding a truly strong opponent to cross swords with. The traveler turned to leave, wanting to get away before it was tempted further.

"Three: the prize for the tournament has been raised to 2,500 gold coins. The winner takes all."

The traveler froze in place amidst the astonished gasps of the crowd.

"And finally, the winner of the tournament will..."

It no longer heard Grimsby's words or the excited whispers running through the crowd. The number kept running through the traveler's head. Two thousand, five hundred gold coins. Two _thousand_, five _hundred_ gold coins. The winner would take it all. The traveler could not believe it, but knew that its keen hearing was not wrong. This was more like divine will than coincidence. It was too convenient. Combined with the with the jewels and gold it already had, the traveler would have the three thousand coins value needed to settle Richard's loan. It could end Sarah's oppression and send her back to school. Isaac could finally see a proper doctor and return to the sea. The children could have a proper home and food on their table. And all it would take was one tournament.

But getting the money would mean going back to fighting. The traveler had done more than enough of that back east and more still just to escape west. It could paint a red path across the desert with all the blood it had spilled. It had sworn never to do so again, especially after what happened with the princess. The tournament would only add to its sins...or would it? This was not a fight for the sake of profit, pride, or vengeance. This was for Sarah, Isaac, the orphans, and little Jenni. The traveler remembered her awe-struck face as it recounted fighting off the worms once more as she lay in bed. It may have been the light from the candle, but it could have sworn there was a flicker of hope in her brown eyes. A hope that this wanderer from the east had come to save them from Richard's tyranny.

'_You think you're a hero? You're just a monster-worse than a monster, a demon! You'll never be able to wash their blood off your hands! You'll just keep spilling it until you drown in your own atrocious existence!_'

The traveler bit its lip, struggling with the wavering in its heart. Did it let this chance go by and keep its oath intact? Or did it break the vow for a gamble at setting one injustice right?

'_Not doing the right thing when it is needed most is no less shameful that doing the wrong thing in full conscience,_' came the voice of the traveler's father from its memories. '_There are few things more painful than reflecting on those choices that are out of reach and knowing they were once within your grasp_.'

The traveler's uncertainty disappeared. The wavering in its heart stilled. There was no doubt in its mind now. How could it hesitate? This was not something it should do. This was something it _had _to do. If there was one chance, one sliver of hope that it could help the orphanage, then it had to take it, even if it meant breaking its oath. For their sake, it would take up the sword and return to the battlefield.

But if the traveler was going to win this tournament, it would need the coming five weeks to prepare. It knew the limit of its skills. Years of nonstop fighting had set them far above any mortal man, but that was no excuse to slack off. Overconfidence was a warrior's worst foe. It could not just win. It needed to make this a full-blown victory. That would mean training, and it knew just the sort of training to do. It would be grueling, tiring, and undoubtedly painful. But if it meant its new friends could smile without care at the end of the day then no amount of training was too much. Still, it was going to need some materials.

The traveler tapped the shoulder of a man at the edge of the crowd. "Excuse me, sir?"

The man turned to face the traveler. He jumped slightly as he saw the traveler's face. "Can I...uh...help you?"

"I'm hoping so," said the traveler. "Do you know where the nearest blacksmith is from here?"

* * *

**A/N: Whew! That was a long one! Lots of stuff to cover with this chapter. The daughters of Triton are going onto land, along with a reluctant Sebastian; Richard is on a wild goose chase for the masked man named Hood, unaware that he is right under his nose; and the traveler has a new job and a new goal: win the tournament and the prize money for the orphans. Will things go as planned? Will the traveler win? And when will we finally get to learn its identity?**

**As always, your comments/thoughts/constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Mermaid or any of its characters. Everything else, however, is mine =)**


	10. Chapter 10: Five Weeks Later

Chapter 10: Five Weeks Later

It was cold when Sarah woke up. The birds were starting their first songs as the sun began warming the land. The night fog was barely a remnant now, the dew on the blades of grass and leaves of trees like a lingering shadow of its presence. The young woman looked around her meager room, the faint morning light illuminating the space with an ethereal glow. Facing her bed from beside the door was a dusty wardrobe holding what few clothes she still owned. To her left was the old desk underneath a newly repaired window, her medicine books collecting dust in their disuse next to an extinguished oil lamp and box of matches. She could see the darkness of night being pushed back through her window. To her right was nothing but empty wall. She felt the morning chill seeping through her blankets, the moth-eaten fabric barely able to keep her warm. She shivered and rolled over to go back to sleep, not yet wanting to leave the world of dreams for the harshness of reality.

'_Thump... thump... thump... thump_.'

Sarah sat bolt upright in bed, dreams forgotten as she strained her ears for the noise. They were quiet, but she could make out the definite sounds of footsteps from the first floor underneath her. No one was supposed to be up this early. She fought to quiet her shuddering breath, afraid that the slightest noise would alert the intruder to her presence. The footsteps were making their way up the stairs now, getting louder with each step. She pulled the blanket over her head and remained perfectly still, her racing heart pounding in her ears. The footsteps reached the top of the stairs and stopped.

Then she heard a door open. A door with a distinctly squeaky hinge.

Jenni's door.

Sarah burst from her bed, her fear forgotten as protective instinct took over. She grabbed the heaviest book she had from her desk and raced to her door, no longer caring if the intruder heard her or not. She yanked her door open and burst into the hall. Jenni's door was ajar. Sarah scampered down the hall and skidded to a halt just before the girl's door. She hoisted the book by her head, ready to throw it at the intruder. She had no plan for what happened after that. She just new she had to get the intruder away from Jenni. Cautiously she peeked around the doorframe.

The traveler was lowering Jenni into her bed. The little girl was sound asleep with her raggedy teddy bear clutched tight in her arms, wrapped up in the traveler's cloak. It gently lay Jenni down on the mattress and tucked the grey cloak around her. Instinctively the little girl grabbed a handful of the cloth and pulled it close. The traveler now stood dressed in his usual clothes, but that morning it wore a black long sleeved shirt under its brown tunic. The shirt was a size too large for it based on how the sleeves hung loose on its arms. Its hands were wrapped in white bandages that disappeared under its sleeves. The bokken was stuck through its belt, the black wood clean and unblemished. The handle was now wrapped in dark gray ray skin, providing a better grip than smooth wood. A pair of small leather bags was attached to the traveler's belt. As usual the shemagh and black goggles covered its face. It had been five weeks since the traveler came to live with them and Sarah still had not seen its face. Even at dinner the traveler would pull the hood of its cloak low, obscuring all but its chin as it ate. The shadows over its face seemed immune to candlelight, as though they devoured any illumination.

"Hood?" whispered Sarah, lowering her book down. "What are you doing up so early?"

The masked traveler turned to face her. She felt a slight panic well up in her chest as she stared into the blackness of the goggles, the shemagh's design over the traveler's mouth resembling sharp interlaced black teeth. It reminded her of looking at a skull. "Just putting Jenni to bed." The traveler noticed the book in her hand. "Doing some early morning reading?"

Sarah put the book down by the door, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry. I thought you were an intruder." She walked over to join the traveler. Jenni mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over, pulling the cloak tight around her.

Sarah had never seen Jenni warm up to someone as fast as she did to the traveler. In the past five weeks the two had become near inseparable. She was never far from the traveler when it was at the orphanage. She would follow it around the house with her blanket tied around her neck and a gnarled old stick in her hand for a bokken. She would always hand it tools and nails when it was working on the house. In turn the traveler would make her laugh with its antics when it missed with the hammer or dropped a board on its foot, sometimes on purpose and other times on accident. She always made sure to sit next to it at the dinner table. During stories she was the first one to sit down and the last one asleep, her brown eyes positively glowing as she became enraptured in the tales. A couple afternoons she had found the two of them napping under the oak tree, the little girl sound asleep against her snoozing friend. Sometimes she would come down in the morning to find the traveler asleep in one of the armchairs with Jenni snoozing in its lap. She had trouble getting the 'd' in his name right, so she called the traveler Hero instead, believing their strange guest to be a brave warrior from a faraway land. The traveler would just laugh and play along. It would refer to her as "Princess Jenni," playing the role of her valiant knight sworn to protect her. Together with the other children they had marvelous adventures in the Emerald Woods, fighting bands of invisible goblins and defeating evil sorcerers. Even with its shemagh on Sarah could tell that the traveler smiled when Jenni was around.

The traveler reached out and gently stroked Jenni's head. The girl gave a sleepy moan and nuzzled against the touch before going still once again.

"See you later, princess," said the traveler softly. Then it abruptly walked to the door, its footsteps barely making a scuffle.

"You're still going to fight?" asked Sarah, her voice barely a whisper. A tension descended over the room.

The traveler stopped in the doorway, one hand clutching the wooden frame. It had been hoping to avoid this. "Yes... the last preliminary is this morning, and then it's the tournament this afternoon. I'm not backing out now." It set off down the stairs.

Sarah chased after the traveler. "Don't do this. Just go to the festival with us and forget about the prize money. We won't think any less of you for quitting. We'll find another way. It's not worth you getting hurt over."

"I'll be fine," said the traveler as they turned the second flight of steps. "I've faced worse than this tournament if my stories were any indication. Besides, I passed the fourth event yesterday. It would be a waste to back out now after all the effort I've put in."

"I'm not saying you aren't qualified for the Champion's Round," said Sarah as she turned the corner of the stairs, "but the fighter's in there aren't normal. Especially since the king set the new rules this year. Those men are...well, monsters!"

"I've fought monsters before and survived," said the traveler as it cleared the last step, marching smartly across the floor to where its knives hung above the door, well out of reach of the children. "This is no different. I'll go out, win, get the prize money, and come back."

"You'll die out there!" pleaded Sarah.

"Die? I seriously doubt it." The traveler reached for its knives.

"But Richard is in the Champion's Round!"

The traveler stopped mid-reach to face Sarah. "Run that by me again."

"Richard is in the Champion's Round," repeated Sarah, her concern showing through her voice.

"How? I haven't seen him at any of the preliminaries. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him at the festival period. How can he be qualified for the Champion's Round?"

"Didn't you know?" The silence from the traveler answered her question. "The winner of the previous tournament gets to compete in the Champion's Round of the next tournament without passing the preliminaries. And Richard has been the winner of the last three tournaments." Sarah took a deep breath, her sleepy mind choosing her next words carefully. "Every person that's crossed swords with Richard has lost, and some have suffered much worse than just defeat. I've seen him fight before. He put five men in the hospital during the last tournament. He's a demon with his sword. He moves the blade with all the speed and ruthlessness of a snake strike. No one has even come close to defeating him in the past six years."

"Then I'll just have to end his winning streak," said the traveler. It took down its knives and secured them to its back.

Sarah had enough. She marched around to face the traveler directly, staring straight into its black goggles. "This is not a game, Hood!" she hissed, trying her best to keep her voice down. "Richard is after your head! All of Seahaven has been talking about what you did in the tavern. Everyone has been working together to keep him off your trail, and you've done well enough in avoiding him when he comes by the house. But it's only made his hatred for you grow. He considers what you did to him a stain on his honor. And he's got favor with the king. You're lucky he hasn't had a warrant put out for your arrest! If you go out in that arena he'll try to kill you, or at least get the other fighters to do it for him!"

The traveler shrugged nonchalantly. "They wouldn't be the first." If Sarah knew how many people had tried to kill the traveler in the east, and how many more wanted to see it dead, she would probably stop trusting it right there.

Sarah clutched the traveler's tunic. "Why are you doing this?" she asked pleadingly. "You appear out of nowhere and make an enemy of one of most powerful swordsmen in the Alliance for a woman you don't know. You get a job as a bartender so you can give all your wages to orphans and spend your free days fixing their home. Now you're risking your life to settle a debt that isn't yours! And after all this you ask for nothing in return!" At this point hot tears were streaming down Sarah's cheeks. She had no idea why she was crying, but she could not stop herself. The traveler remained still as a statue, waiting for her to ask the inevitable question.

"Why?" Sarah asked, her voice starting to shake with the emotions rolling around inside her. She felt confused, angry, sad, afraid, and concerned all at once. "What possible reason could you have for doing all this?"

The traveler stared at Sarah for a moment, peering into her brown eyes from behind its black goggles. Sarah felt a twinge of fear at its gaze, afraid that she had pushed things too far. Then the traveler gently grasped her shoulders. She could feel the strength in its hands, but there was something else in its touch. Remorse.

"Remember what I told your dad when he asked why I helped you?"

Sarah nodded. How could she forget? "Not doing the right thing when it's needed most is no less shameful than doing something knowing it's wrong. You said your father taught you that."

"My dad also taught me there are few things more painful than looking back on a something that's out of reach and knowing it was once close enough to grasp. Right now the solution to your debt is within my grasp, and it's inside that arena. Well, most of it is."

"Most of it?" sniffled Sarah, wiping her eyes on her nightgown sleeve.

The traveler reached behind its back and pulled out the drawstring purses. "I've been saving these ever since I heard about the tournament." The traveler took Sarah's hand and placed the bags in it. She could feel many small round shapes inside, as though the bags had been filled with small rocks.

"Go ahead," encouraged the traveler. "Open it."

Hesitantly Sarah opened the bags. The woman almost screamed when she saw the gold and precious stones inside.

"By the seven seas! Hood, where... what are-?"

The traveler quickly silenced her with a finger to her lips. "What they are is yours now. You need them more than I do," answered the traveler. It took her other hand and placed it on top of the bag. "It's not enough to pay off your debt, but with the prize money it will be more than enough. As for where I got them, I promise I didn't steal them. They were a gift from a friend of mine...and he didn't steal them either, I assure you. "

Now the tears were flowing freely, but this time they were tears of joyous relief. She stared at the bags in her hand before turning her teary gaze up to the traveler. "Hood...this is... it's... I don't know what to say! You don't know how much this means to us! How will we ever repay you?"

The traveler smiled. "You don't have to say anything. And if you really want to repay me, then all of you come cheer for me at the Champion's Round. That's all the payment I need." The traveler affectionately brushed a strand of hair out of Sarah's. "Keep your chin up. I'll bring the smiles back to your family. I promise."

Sarah looked back at the bags. Her mind was barely able to grasp just how much she was holding. The possibility of returning to their former life suddenly seemed much closer than she ever thought possible. She could return to school. Her father could get the medicine he needed and go back to sea. The children could have a proper home again. All because of the extraordinary generosity and kindness of this stranger.

She heard the door open. She spun to see the traveler leaving the house. When had it walked past her?

"Hood, wait!" The traveler stopped on the doorstep, turning to look back at her.

Sarah walked up to the traveler, her eyes never breaking away from its goggles. She rose up and gave it a quick peck on the cheek. "For luck," she said quietly, unable to keep the smile off her face.

The traveler gave a thankful nod, then spun and trotted off down the path. Sarah remained in the doorway, watching as the traveler turned into the road and set off towards town. The first rays of light appeared on the road, illuminating the traveler like a saint in a cathedral. She clutched the bags of jewels and gold tight to her chest. She let the tears come freely now, each one filled with more hope and happiness than she knew she still had. For the first time in years she honestly believed they were going to be okay.

'_You've done so much to keep our hopes alive,_' she thought to herself as she watched the traveler, '_and all you ask for in return is our smiles. You truly are a hero. Bless you, Hood. Bless you._'

* * *

Several hours later and the sun hung high in the bright blue sky. The morning chill was barely a memory in the warm afternoon light. Flocks of pigeons and gulls alighted on rooftops to survey the activity below, ever watching for a dropped crumb they could set upon. The streets of Seahaven were even more packed than usual. The plaza was jammed with people moving between the stalls and tents lining its edge, each selling its own unique commodity. There were spice traders surrounded by pots holding various colored powders, tailors with the latest fashions on display, and peddlers selling everything from jewelry and books to swords and armor. People danced to lively songs near the street leading to The Mermaid's Trove. Blue and white ribbons hung between the street lamps and across buildings, the fabric swaying gently in the breeze. The sounds of the festival were a buzz more energetic than any beehive could hope to match.

The royal carriage rolled into the plaza on its way to the Seahaven arena. Mounted guards surrounded the carriage, the forward men working to clear a path through the people. The white carriage was beautifully crafted with gold botanical inlays and perfectly fitted glass windows. Grimsby sat at the reigns, skillfully steering a pair of white mares through the parting crowd. Some people waved to the passengers inside while others threw flowers or confetti.

Melody sat across from her parents, recessed into a corner of the carriage's leather seats. She wore a fancier version of her yellow sundress, the skirt embroidered with fall designs of flowers, leaves, and suns. A simple golden tiara adorned her head. Eric was dressed in his white military uniform, while Ariel wore her pink ball gown and a golden tiara with a single emerald. She was a bit tired as a result of getting all of her sister's families settled into the palace the day before. A single green jade ring adorned her finger, but Eric's hand was bare. A small bulge in his pocket gave away the location of his ring.

Melody stared out the window at the waving crowd, returning the occasional wave. She did not share in their enthusiasm. This would be the first festival she did not attend. Five weeks in the castle had felt like five years. No Tip and Dash, no human friends, no ocean, no Atlantica. The world around her had shrunk to the walls of the castle. She caught her reflection in the window. The dark circles were gone from her face and her hair had recovered its healthy sheen. But her eyes were dull and blank, as empty as caves. She had numbed herself not only to the emotional pain, but also to her own enthusiasm and sense of adventure. Whereas she normally would have been ecstatic to leave the palace after so long, now she felt only indifference. She no longer cried without end or stayed locked up in her room, but neither did she laugh, dance, sing, or talk without being spoken to first. Her smile was forced, as false as a nobleman's wig.

The carriage suddenly came to a stop, jolting everyone inside. Melody immediately feared the worst, her pulse rising and senses working to absorb as much information as possible. "Why are we stopping?"

"I don't know," said Eric. He knocked sharply on the roof. "What's going on, Grims?"

"Traffic jam, your majesties," said the advisor, his voice muffled by the carriage. "Afraid there's nothing I can do about this crowd."

Ariel and Eric peered out the window. Sure enough they could see a thick swarm of people in front of them. The guards were already working to clear a path, but it would take time.

"That's all right," reassured Eric. "We're in no rush. Tell the guards to be as polite as they can about it."

"Of course, sire."

Melody settled back into her seat, the pounding in her chest fading away. She looked out the window. They were parked in front of a whitewashed building with a brown shingle roof. A wooden sign reading "The Mermaid's Trove" hung over the oak door. Tables and chairs were set outside, the patrons taking advantage of the weather. She could hear laughter and gruff speech as the townsfolk talked about whatever subject they pleased. A particularly loud and gruff voice caught the princess' attention.

"I'm telling you, John, it isn't going to happen! I want to see Lord Richard get what he's got coming to him as much as everyone else, but no one's beaten him in six years and I doubt it'll happen for twice as long!"

"An' I'm tellin' ye, _Jim_, that Richard doesn't stand a chance," said a man with the unmistakable accent of a seaman. "Tha' slimy noble can take any or'nary man, but there be nothin' normal abou' Hood. Ain't tha' right, Walt?"

As numb as Melody was, the mentioning of Lord Richard succeeded in grabbing her attention. She had met the man a few times before. He was the picture of a cultured gentleman, always courteous and composed. He was well liked by everyone in the royal court except her mother, though she never understood why. Nor did she understand why anyone would speak so ill of him. As much as she disliked having a bodyguard, having Richard as her guardian would not be the end of the world. At least he would be a gentleman about it. She looked for the source of the voices, but they were out of sight. Probably at one of the tables they had passed next to the road.

"I'm with John," said a voice presumably belonging to Walt. "I saw him run the obstacle course. He practically flew through it. Set a new record, and I don't think that one will ever be beaten."

"Aye, an' I saw 'is boxing and fencing matches," said the seaman. "Took down a man twice 'is size wi' one hit. Sorta back'anded him in the jaw. Must've hit like a horse 'cause the poor fellah went down like an anchor wi' the chain cut. Did the same thing a' the fencin' match. Ye should've seen 'it. The man he was facin' had a proper duelin' sword. He looked more confused than a lost pup when Hood came in wi' his sword stuck in 'is belt. He wan'ed Hood to draw 'is weapon, but he insisted on leavin' it tha' way. So the ref gives the signal and...wham! Hood draws tha' thing faster than ye can blink! Breaks the man's sword in two and stops his own inches from the man's throat. The poor man looked abou' ready to cry when they called the match."

"So he qualified for four events," said Jim dismissively. "Doesn't mean he can beat Richard-not that I'd scorn him doing it, mind you-."

"He did it!" A young man blew past the carriage window before Melody could get a look at his face. "You're not going... to believe this!" she heard him pant. "He beat... the record! He beat it... by double! He... he..."

"Easy, lad!" said Walt. Melody heard a chair being pulled across the stones to the table, followed by the young man dropping himself into it. "Now stop sputtering like a fish out of water and tell us what happened. Who beat what record?"

"The masked man! The one everyone's been talking about!"

"Hood?"

"That's him! He beat the archery record! A perfect bulls-eye... six times! You know what that means? He qualified for all five events!" The young man stopped to catch his breath. Now he had Melody's full attention.

"Come on, lad," said John. "Give us the details. Ye can't leave a story like tha' one hangin."

The young man worked to get his breathing under control before he spoke again. "I was watching the last of the archery matches. Everyone is watching this man named Kenton take his shots. Well, with the new rules it's a hundred yards to the target instead of fifty, but the man puts his arrows in a nice group inside the center target. Then this masked man walks up and asks to shoot. Just calls himself Hood. Had a weird black and green cloth and black glasses on his face and a black stick in his belt. Couldn't see so much as a hair on his head. Real shifty looking fellow if I've ever seen one."

"We know what he looks like, lad," said Jim. "Get on with it."

"Er...right. Anyway, he gets his bow and arrows and starts looking them over real careful-like. Rolls the arrows between his fingers, gives them a little bend, balances the bow on one finger. Then he turns and runs away! Just does an about-face and scampers off in the opposite direction of the targets, bow and arrows in hand!"

"So what happened next?" asked Jim.

'_Come on, tell them before we get going again_,' thought Melody impatiently, as caught up in the story now as the rest of the group.

"Well, the range-master goes after him hollering for his stuff back, but Hood ignores him and keeps running. He gets a hundred yards away, then stops dead in his tracks and aims an arrow back at the target! Straight through the crowd! People are diving left and right out of the way! The poor range-master just about fainted when he saw the arrow being leveled at his head. Then Hood aims it up and lets the first arrow fly. Up it goes and down it comes. Thwack! Right in the center. Then he shoots the rest one after the other, and they all go dead center. He actually split three of the arrows with his shots! Six perfect bulls-eyes from two hundred yards away!"

Melody's lips parted slightly in amazement. She did not know much about archery, but she knew that two hundred yards was an incredible distance to be shooting from. To put six arrows in a perfect bulls-eye bordered on unnatural. Not to mention he had passed all five events. That in and of itself was an incredible achievement.

Someone slammed a mug on the table. "Ha ha! I told ye the lad could do it! So Jim, still think 'e doesn't stand a chance against Richard?"

"Willing to make a bet on it, old man?" Melody could barely make out the enticing jingle of coins in a bag. "Five coppers say Hood goes out in the first five minutes."

John gave a hearty laugh. "Jim, I'll bet you five golds that Hood not only lasts five minutes, but 'e wins this tournament!"

At that moment the carriage started moving. The sounds of conversation quickly faded away amidst the clatter of carriage wheels over stone. Melody peered back in hopes of seeing the men, but the tavern quickly disappeared from view as they drove towards the arena once again.

"Melody?" The young princess turned back to see Ariel looking at her with a curious expression. "Did you see something?"

Melody shook her head. "It was nothing," she said as she settled back into her seat. "Just thought I heard something."

* * *

The Seahaven arena was not the largest or most elaborate building in the alliance, but it was still an impressive structure. A tiered wooden coliseum, the arena could seat the majority of the town's population. It rose nearly a hundred feet into the air and was close to six times that size in diameter. A two hundred foot wide dirt arena enclosed by seven-foot wooden walls occupied the center of the structure. Seventeen large bronze shields adorned the walls of the arena. Four gates allowed access to the arena from the cardinal directions. Covered box seats occupied the edge of the arena at regular intervals for the nobility to watch from. One box in particular was outfitted with the kingdom flag in front of it and flowers at its corners. Four guards armed with spears stood in the corners. Three ornate golden chairs with red velvet seats sat empty, awaiting the arrival of their owners. This was the box reserved for the royal family. The remaining seats in the arena were wooden benches. Massive cloth awnings stretched out over the benches to protect the audience from the sun and rain. Flags flapped in the breeze from poles atop the periphery of the structure. Already the arena was approaching its capacity as people swarmed in, some having found their place hours ago to ensure they would not be denied a good view.

What could not be seen from outside or inside the arena was an intricate system of tunnels that wove their way through the bowels of the structure. Oil lamps illuminated dark passages that were brimming with activity. Weapon smiths and menservants rushed to a fro, working their hardest to ensure their respective fighters were as ready for the tournament as possible. The competitors chatted with their crews as they prepared for the coming fight, fitting on armor and choosing weapons.

The traveler leaned against the wall of one such tunnel, adjusting something underneath the sleeves of its shirt. Next to it was the wooden slatted gate leading to the arena, light streaming through the spaces between the boards. It could hear the buzz of the crowd outside. Whereas the other fighters were putting on armors and selecting suitable weapons to replace their own lethal instruments, the traveler had not done so much as pick up a bracer. True, armor offered protection from blades and other things that did not have friendly relationships with flesh, but armor was also heavy and cumbersome. The traveler had no need for such things. All it needed was its bokken and its skill.

"Five minutes till the start!" called a voice from the tunnels.

The traveler thought back to its conversation with Sarah. It could not stop thinking about her words.

'_What possible reason could you have for doing all this?_'

"More reasons than I can count," whispered the traveler quietly. It looked at its hands. Those hands had spilled more blood than any of the other competitors ever would. Now they were wrapped in pristine white bandages, as though to mask the stains on its conscience. Any moment the traveler expected the blood to start soaking through, reminding it of the past it had left behind in the east.

"Hood!"

The traveler returned to the waking world from its musings. It looked back into the depths of the tunnel to see a familiar strawberry blonde noble stomping towards it. Richard had abandoned his formal clothes for more practical ones. Instead of a jacket he wore a padded leather vest over a white shirt. His hands were clothed in new leather fencing gloves. A thick leather guard protected his right forearm. He wore brown leather pants and polished black leather boots. The training rapier at his side was barely a shadow of Richard's preferred sword. Its metal was tarnished and heavily scratched. Even in the dim light of the tunnels the traveler could see that the naked blade's edge had no lethality whatsoever. Anger was written across his face as clearly as the title of a book.

"Ah, lunch Richard-I mean, Lord Richard," said the traveler cheerily. "Forgive me for not saying hello earlier. I didn't recognize you without any food on. Pity...boar was such a good look for you."

""I've been looking for you!" seethed Richard as he halted before the traveler, fists trembling with desire to pummel it to dust. "You must have a death wish to show your face here! Where have you been hiding these past five weeks?"

"Oh, here and there. Sometimes on the north road, other times in town or out in the forest. It really depends on who you ask, but I would recommend asking people in cloaks."

A look of realization spread over Richard's face. "The old lady... the man in the plaza...they were you! All of them!"

The traveler grinned underneath its shemagh. "I was them and one more. I can't tell you how many times I've walked right past you without you even knowing it or stared you straight in the eye." The traveler pulled out its bokken and began twirling the weapon in its hand. "Look familiar? It should since I was using it for a cane most of the time. Thanks for the coins by the way. It was nice of you to buy me breakfast."

Richard started to draw his sword. The traveler moved the bokken over its shoulder in preparation for a quick slash.

"I should cut you down right now for the humiliation you've caused me," hissed Richard.

"You? Cut me down? A boy who didn't have to lift a finger to get into this tournament? I'd like to see you try it, especially with that butter knife you've got there," challenged the traveler. Tense seconds passed, each inviting the other to make the first move.

Richard gave a confident smirk as he sheathed his own blade. "I'll save my vengeance for the arena. I've got something special planned for you and your little friends."

The traveler's own confidence faltered. It did not like the tone in Richard's voice. It was both knowing and plotting. "What are you talking about?" it asked as it thrust the bokken back into its belt.

"You may have gotten the better of me in the tavern, Hood," sneered Richard, "but I'm no fool. I knew you'd warm up to that trollop and her little rats even if I didn't find you. You hero-playing types always go for her type. When Isaac started making the payments on time and in full I knew it couldn't be a coincidence. Someone had to be helping them, and after your heroics it was obvious whom. I knew a bleeding heart like yours wouldn't turn down a prize like this one, or the chance to play savior to the damsel in distress. So I've taken measures to make sure you bleed...fifteen of them to be precise, and two of them want revenge for the tavern as much as I do."

It did not take a stretch of the imagination for the traveler to figure out what Richard's measures were. There were fifteen other competitors in the Champion's Round. As for the two wanting revenge for the tavern, that was clearly Richard's bodyguards. The traveler did not know how those buffoons had gotten into the Champion's round, but it was willing to bet Richard had used his 'influence' to do it.

"Coward!" spat the traveler.

"You call it cowardice. I call it an assurance of victory." Richard pulled a single gold coin from his pocket, holding it up for the traveler to see." There are two kinds of people in this world, Hood. Those with a price, and those without. I doubt a fool like you has a price, but for the others it was five gold coins and the promise of ninety-five more to the one who puts you in a stretcher. And for those fools who value morality above gold, a spot of misinformation was all it took to stir their hunger for chivalry...like telling them you attacked three innocent men before dragging a poor defenseless woman into the streets. You should have seen their faces when I told them."

The traveler was growling like an angry dog as Richard leaned in. "I could care less if you killed every one of these men," he whispered menacingly. "To me they're just the means to an end, or rather to your end. But I will have Sarah, and not you, John, Isaac, or even King Eric is going to stop me. Know that once this tournament starts you will have fifteen men coming after you with the intent to flog you to within an inch of your life. And if by some miracle you are still standing with me at the final round then you are going to throw that fight and leave Seahaven forever...provided I feel merciful enough to let you walk out of here."

The traveler's hand inched towards its knives. "And if I refuse?"

A sinister grin crossed Richard's face as he tucked the coin away. "Then by this time tomorrow Isaac and all those little rats will be on the street and Sarah will be cleaning floors as my newest maid. At least, that's what I'll have her doing by day. You know how it is. Those old wood stoves can be such a hazard if they aren't cared for properly. One stray spark and the whole house goes up in flames. And as for John and that cesspool he calls a bar-."

Richard barely reacted in time. One moment the traveler was standing still. The next a knife was coming for Richard's neck in a backhanded grip. The noble barely drew his sword in time, blocking the blade from finding his throat. The traveler pressed hard, forcing Richard to retreat until he backed hard into the tunnel wall with a heavy thump.

"Set one foot near them and I'll have you in jail before the week's out, and that's if I feel merciful enough to let you see the morning!" hissed the traveler threateningly.

Richard gave a scoff, hiding his fear of the blade inches from his throat. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"The ships you loaned Isaac. The Guthenfort family. Heather Locklaw. The incident with Samantha Willhelm last spring. Your information brokering to King Willard. Is that enough or should I keep going?" Richard's eyes went wide with surprise. "Unlike you, _Lord _Richard, I haven't been chasing ghosts these past five weeks. I've been looking into your affairs. You have quite a reputation with the townsfolk. I don't know how you've kept yourself in the king's favor for so long, but I've got enough dirt on you to farm crops with." The traveler nodded towards the gate. The noise of the crowd increased as Grimsby announced the arrival of the royal family. "You hear that? I bet a lot of people out there would love to watch you rot away in a dungeon or coffin for what you've done to them."

"You're bluffing," said Richard nervously, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. How could Hood possibly know about any of those things? He always made sure to cover his tracks perfectly. There was no way he knew.

The traveler leaned into Richard's face. "Try me. One person complaining against you may be small fry, but what about a dozen? Two dozen? Three dozen? Even if you escape punishment I wonder what that sort of accusation would do to your reputation? How long before the whispers start?" The two remained locked together, daring each other to make a move as they pushed knife against sword.

"One minute! Fighter's to the gate!" Immediately there was a sound of many approaching footsteps. The traveler shoved Richard against the wall before leaping back from him, landing with its knife in a guarded stance. Richard looked furious enough to burn holes in glass with his glare.

"So we find ourselves in a stalemate," said the traveler as the fighters approached. "You can have the orphanage destroyed and Sarah turned into your pet, but I can have you thrown in jail and become some prisoner's pet as well."

"Indeed." Richard sheathed his sword as the gates opened with a loud groan. The two fighter's stared each other down as the other competitors filed past them into the light, neither one giving so much as a blink. The traveler was oblivious to the hungry stares and few threatening comments from the other fighters. It was completely focused on Richard. A familiar pair of giant bodyguards broke off from the group to stand beside Richard. Both held wood staves as long as the traveler was tall. They glared at the traveler like a pair of angry dogs waiting for the order to attack.

A small man dressed in a dark purple jacket scampered between the adversaries. "Um...gentlemen, the tournament is starting."

"We'll be right out," said the traveler flatly. It was a command, not a statement.

"Very well." The man turned to go when he noticed the traveler's knives. "Uh...sir, you cannot have those in the arena."

The traveler turned to look the man in the eye. "What?"

The man flinched under the traveler's black stare. "I-It's the rules, sir. No weapons with a cutting edge are allowed."

The traveler turned back to Richard. "Let me make this perfectly clear. I could care less about the money. Beating the tar out of you three is more than enough reward. I'll wipe the floor with your ugly mugs any day of the week. So, you really want to settle things?" it asked, reaching behind itself for its knives.

"Absolutely," growled Richard as he adjusted his vest and began walking towards the arena. His bodyguards gripped their staves tighter, causing the wood to creak. "We'll be glad to put you in your place. Namely, a pinewood box."

The traveler removed its knives and handed them to the small man. "Then we settle it in the arena. I'm going to pay you all back for every cold night and hungry day those kid's went through because of your schemes. You'll have your three thousand coins by the end of the day. You're going to need it when I send you all to the hospital." The traveler fell in behind its newest enemies.

"When I'm through with you, you'll be groveling at my feet for mercy," said Richard as they emerged into the arena. Immediately the noble discarded his angry expression, waving to the crowd with an amicable smile. Several women from the box behind them threw roses to him or waved their handkerchiefs.

The traveler narrowed its eyes behind the unblinking lenses of its goggles. "When I'm through with you, you won't be _able _to beg me for mercy."

* * *

The arena exploded with cheers as the fighters entered the ring. People were shouting the names of their favorite fighter as the competitors made their way to the center of the arena. The crowd was an ocean of activity, enthusiasm rolling through them like waves in a storm.

Up in the highest row of the stadium were two onlookers that went largely unnoticed. One was a woman dressed in a deep purple dress and a matching veil over her face, her fair hands folded quietly in her lap. She seemed fragile, as though her willowy body could be blown over in a breeze. No one would have suspected that she was powerful enough to kill every person in the arena single-handedly, and cruel enough to do so on a whim. If you removed the veil you would find yourself staring into a gold mask with black circular eyes and an upturned crescent for a mouth.

Next to her was the largest man many people would ever see. He stood over eight feet tall with brilliant orange hair and narrow electric blue eyes. His chiseled jaw and strong chin gave him an intimidating appearance. His body was muscular enough to put Triton in his prime and Urchin combined to shame. His forearm alone was the size of an average man's thigh. He wore a tight fitting teal shirt and brown pants, the belt around his waist barely long enough to encircle him. He was prodding at his forearm inquisitively, a look of genuine disappointment on his face.

"This form is pathetic," said the man as he poked the enormous muscles of his arm. "It's so clumsy and weak. And you can barely swim with it. No wonder humans are so easy to catch once they fall overboard."

"You're one to talk about clumsiness, Riptide," said Remora. "You sank a ship just by coming to the surface. Watch where you breach next time." A group of children ran past them, laughing as they searched for the best spot to watch the tournament from. Riptide eyed them like a hungry shark, his stomach growling loudly.

"Can't we take ten or twenty of the little ones for a snack? There's so many of them running around I doubt anyone will notice." His voice took on a predatory tone as he watched the children scamper down the stairs to the lower levels. "So young and tender...I love how their bones crunch when I bite."

"Keep your voice down!" hissed Remora. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves. Besides, you already ate two whales, five sharks, and two mermen on our way here, not to mention the crew of that ship you sunk. How can you still be hungry?"

The monstrous man's stomach growled again. "What can I say? I'm a growing monster."

"Clearly," muttered Remora. She turned her attention back to the ring as the last four fighters entered the arena. "Now pipe down and watch. You haven't forgotten why we came here, have you?"

Riptide gave a curt nod. "Of course not, milady. The Master's orders were quite clear, and unlike those witches I don't ignore them."

"Good." The two returned their attention to the arena, watching as the fighters began forming a neat row in front of the royal family's box.

* * *

Melody watched from her seat as the fighters began splitting off to form an orderly line in front of the royal box. She was not impressed by what she saw. There were a few knights clad in polished armors of various sorts. They all held edgeless swords modified for training, their gleaming armor more ceremonial than practical. They were waving to the crowd, smiling good-naturedly at the adoring fans under the burden of their protective plating. Most had never even seen a real fight outside of their training, relying on youth and a sense of duty to the kingdom to compensate for their inexperience.

The rest of the fighters were little better. These men were positively barbaric compared to their knightly counterparts. They were an assortment of wanderers, bounty hunters, and mercenaries from all over the alliance. They ranged from scruffy mountain men to gruff vagrants. Some held long wooden staves as replacements for their swords, while others used clubs or bare fists. They shifted about like animals in a cage, eager to draw first blood. Melody pulled a face as a man with a horned helmet and a large club dressed in a bearskin spat on the arena floor.

'_My guardian is supposed to be one of them?_' she thought, casting a fleeting glance at a large muscular man with a bushy black beard and hair wearing little more than a leather loincloth and a pair of braided leather cords crossed over his chest. He clutched a long oak staff in his hand. The archer next to him with a patch over his left eye and a patched cloak was not much of an improvement. Nor was the pair of weasel-like identical twins next to him, each with a gladius in their hand. Melody would have preferred a literal watchdog to any of these men.

A large bald headed man moved aside to reveal Lord Richard. The man's hair fluttered gently in the breeze. He smiled to the crowd as he waved, drawing adoring flaps of handkerchiefs from several of the noble ladies. He looked every part the charming hero dressed in his vest with his sword at his side. He glanced up to her, his green eyes staring straight into her blue ones. Melody felt her cheeks flush slightly as he bowed elegantly to the royal family. Why was he flustering her? Her pulse quickened. A part of her felt indecent for it, as though she were betraying the memory of William, but she quickly forgot about that thought when she saw the man behind him.

He was not impressive at all. His outfit was unremarkable, the brown tunic and black pants heavily faded and his black shirt loose on his frame. His hands were wrapped like a bad chef's, and his boots looked like they had been made from leather scraps. He had a black wooden stick stuck through a leather belt at his hip. He could not have been more than three inches taller than her. If anything, he was wimpy compared to the other competitors.

What had her attention fixated on this man was his face. There was none. A green shemagh with interlacing black triangular patterns covered him from the shoulders up. His eyes were obscured behind circular black goggles. The pattern of the shemagh over his mouth gave him the look of an arcane skull with unnaturally sharp teeth, his goggles forming the black pits of empty sockets.

'_A weird black and green cloth and black glasses on his face, and a black stick in his belt...no doubt about it. That's Hood_.' Suddenly the masked man's head whipped in her direction, looking her straight in the eyes. Melody flinched back at his stare. It felt as though he was not just seeing her, but peering into her. She quickly looked away, afraid that her stare would attract his attention even more. She desperately wanted him to look away.

"Honey? Is everything alright?"

Melody jumped at her mother's touch on her arm. She turned to see Ariel looking at her with concern. "Huh?"

Ariel put her hand to Melody's forehead. "Melody, you're white as a sheet. Are you feeling okay?"

Melody brushed her mother's hand aside. "It... it's nothing." She looked back to the arena. Hood was now scanning the crowd as though looking for someone. She had no idea why, but this man scared her.

* * *

The traveler scanned the crowd. There was no sign of Sarah, Isaac, or any of the children among the sea of faces. It felt a bit crestfallen at their absence. The traveler could not have asked for a greater motivation than their voices cheering it on.

Finding that its quick search of the crowd was futile, the traveler turned its attention back to the royal family. They sat in a neat row facing the arena. King Eric sat on the far right of his wife, the man called Grimsby standing close by his side. The traveler could tell he was approaching the end of his prime, but the man still had a youthful presence to him. He smiled cheerfully and waved back to the crowd, his icy blue eyes surveying the crowd like a father watches his children at play. Next to him in the middle was Queen Ariel, the Saint of Seahaven. She was possibly the most beautiful woman the traveler had ever seen. It was not just the vibrant color of her red hair or the sincerity of her smile as she waved to the crowd. There was something genuinely kind about her presence, a softness to her demeanor like a mother's laugh.

Princess Melody, however, was a different story. It was easy to see the resemblance to her parents, especially when sitting next to her mother. The traveler could not deny that she was a beautiful young woman. But any similarities ended there, and not just physically. The aura around her was depressive and cold, as though all the optimism had been drained from her. Her smile was fake as a con man's handshake. She stared blankly around the stadium, eyes looking but seeing nothing. When the traveler looked her in the eyes it felt like she was seeing straight through it like a ghost.

'_War Daze_,' thought the traveler. It knew those eyes. It had seen that gaze in young soldiers who had returned from the battlefield, eyes once brimming with enthusiasm glazed over with emptiness. War Daze was a sickness of the mind brought on by the horrors of war. Those who suffered it experienced nightmares, flashbacks, apathy, depression, and a host of other symptoms that slowly isolated the person from the world. That was exactly how Melody looked to the traveler. Like she had been cut off from the world around her by walls of her own creation.

'_What in the world happened to you, princess?_' thought the traveler. It was prevented from pursuing any further thoughts on the subject when King Eric stood up to address the crowd. He held his hand up for silence. The noise of the arena quickly diminished to a quiet murmur of voices.

"Citizens of Seahaven," said Eric, his voice projecting surprisingly well over the arena. "Visitors from near and far. Mothers. Fathers. Children. Friends. Welcome... to the Tournament of Champions!"

A roar of applause went up from the crowd, making the very air vibrate like a plucked cello string. Several of the more gentlemanly fighters applauded quietly. The rest were content to remain as they were. Eric raised his hand again, and once more silence fell.

"Before us on this glorious day are the finest warriors from the Alliance. A finer group of combatants you will find nowhere else in the kingdom."

'_I beg to differ_,' thought the traveler as it glanced in Richard's direction.

"All those brave men who competed in these preliminaries showed great strength, skill, determination, and courage in their efforts." Eric turned his attention to the fighters now, his gaze stopping briefly at each one as he spoke. "Of the hundreds that participated, you seventeen warriors have set yourself apart by your tenacity and ability. Were it possible I would name each of you champion here and now." A round of polite applause broke out among the crowd.

"However," continued Eric, "there can be only one champion in this arena. Only one of you will stand victorious at the end of this day. Only one of you will earn the right to wear the golden wreath. And so, here, on this hallowed ground, before the people of Seahaven, you will face each other." His voice began to rise as he spoke. "Show us your strength. Show us your skill. Show us your courage. And in return, one of you will be shown the honor and the glory of being crowned as the one... true... champion!"

At these words the arena exploded into applause and cheers. Several people threw white and blue confetti into the air, the paper descending into the arena like a snowstorm. Bits of paper settled onto the fighters, flecking them with blue and white spots. Eric returned to his seat, waving to the crowd as he sat. Grimsby now stepped forward to address the fighters.

"Before his majesty officially begins this tournament, I will take this moment to remind you all of the rules of this tournament. Some of you are veterans of this arena, and some of you are here for your first time. For those of you that have stood here before, surely you have noticed that things are different this year. I am sure that you are already familiar with the rules, but to ensure there is no ignorance on your part I will repeat them one final time." There were a few groans from the crowd, including one familiar voice shouting 'get on with it, Grimsby.'

"No lethal weapons of any method or design are allowed here. You have been given suitable replacements or had your own weapons approved for use in this tournament. However, the final two competitors will be allowed to use their own weapons for the deciding match if they so choose. If you yield, are rendered unconscious, are unable to continue, or ignore a desist order from myself or his majesty, you will be removed from the tournament."

The traveler nodded silently in agreement. Its bokken had passed the inspection already. Clearly the rules of this tournament were designed to allow the fighters to battle at full strength while minimizing the risk of death-accidental or intended. Still, something was bothering the traveler. There were seventeen fighters including itself. It was impossible for them to hold a traditional tournament with paired matches with that one extra person no matter how it was carried out.

Grimsby cleared his throat. "Finally, there will be no paired matches in this tournament."

'_Well, that answers my question_,' thought the traveler sarcastically. A wave of bewildered and surprised whisperings went through the crowd. No paired matches? Then how was the tournament going to happen? Even some of the fighters spoke quietly among themselves, just as confused as their audience.

"No, this will not be a normal tournament," continued the advisor. "This year the tournament will be held with all fighters competing against each other at once-a battle royal! The last two men standing will go on to participate in a one-on-one match with their weapons of choice!" An excited wave of chattering went through the crowd. A battle royal was unheard of, but it promised that much more excitement for the onlookers.

Richard turned to look at the traveler. His eyes followed a slight tremor in its shoulder down to a definite shake in its hand. Richard smirked. Already he was looking forward to watching the traveler grovel on the ground beneath the bone-splintering blows of the other competitors. And even if it somehow made it to the final round, Richard had something very special planned for it. '_That's right, tremble in fear you maggot. You cannot imagine the pain you are about to endure._'

If Richard had been able to hear the traveler's thoughts then he would have known that the traveler was not shaking from fear. It was shaking with excitement, like a dog before the hunt. The warrior inside of it was howling to be loosed. The traveler could not keep a grin off is face. When was the last time it had looked forward to a fight so much? Sixteen excellent fighters ready to give their all, and it would get to fight all of them at once. The tremor in the traveler's arm increased, as though the limb itself was eager to deal the first blow. Tingles raced up and down its spine as the adrenaline began to flow.

Grimsby gave an eloquent bow to the competitors. "Fighters, we salute you!" The fighters in turn bowed back to the royal box in their own style-all except for the traveler. It did not bow but instead it gave a nod of acknowledgement.

"To your positions!" shouted Grimsby. The energy of the arena was beginning to reach a frenzied high as the fighters began walking to the edges of the arena, each choosing a shield to their liking.

The traveler breathed deeply as it walked to the easternmost shield in the arena. It could feel the dirt under its feet and the sun on its clothes. Sense the energy of the crowd and the stares of its fellow fighters on it, each of them thinking of the reward being offered for its demise. It smelled the dust kicked up by its steps. It felt Richard's eyes on it, sensed the smug smile on his face. It heard the roar of the crowd as they waited for the start. The traveler stopped and turned back, letting loose a deep breath that discarded all hesitation with its exhale. This was it. Every hour spent training in the forest. Every bare-knuckle strike and bone bending kick to tree trunks as it went through the motions of combat. Every swing of its sword in the night while the kids slept. Every drop of sweat and sore muscle had been for this moment.

"Weapons!" The combatants readied their weapons. Richard drew his sword from his belt, holding it in a one-handed grip with his other arm tucked behind his back. He was staring straight at the traveler just like all the others.

Eric raised his arm. An immediate tension fell over the arena. Melody held her breath, her hands unconsciously gripping her chair. The hair on Ariel's neck stood up straight. Eric's arm trembled slightly as he held it up, waiting to give the signal to begin. A large group of children escorted by an elderly man and a young woman frantically worked their way into the arena, spreading out along the lowermost walkway for the best view. Richard ground his feet into the dirt, eager to take his revenge on the lone traveler who had offended him. The fighters shifted themselves towards the traveler, thinking only of the reward awaiting them at its fall. The traveler slid into a ready stance, bringing its right hand around to hold the handle of the bokken in a loose grip. It calmed its nerves, taking steady even breaths as it brought the trembling in its arm under control. It wound up like a spring, ready to unleash itself like a hurricane.

The moment hung in the air like a coin toss, spinning slowly forward into time.

Then Eric dropped his hand. "Begin!"

With the excitement of the start of the tournament holding the crowd's attention, no one noticed a lone raven alight on the edge of one of the shades. From a distance the bird appeared no different than any other raven. A closer examination revealed a very different story. The bird had hair-thin red lines running through its feathers in geometric patterns. The lines glowed softly, converging on beady eyes that shone with an unnatural fiery light. The bird had none of the twitchy motions of a wild bird, but stood perfectly still upon its perch as it watched the scene below. The bird was not even aware that it was doing this.

The Voice surveyed the scene from its feathered avatar. It could just as easily watched the tournament without using the possession spell, but it wanted to see this event through physical eyes. There was something aesthetically pleasing about it. It saw everything through the raven's eyes. The mournful princess next to her mother. The traveler standing ready in the arena as its adoring friends watched from the stands. The black hearted noble and his two servants ready to deal their own twisted idea of justice to the traveler. And the two servants of the Master watching the scene unfold from the stands. This would be a pivotal moment with far reaching effects, and the Voice would not miss it.

'_The pieces are assembled. The stage is ready and the audience waiting. And so the curtain rises on our performance. Will the play end in applause as our heroes take a bow? Or will the theater disappear under the shadow of the storm?_'

* * *

**A/N: Cliffhanger! This is it! The showdown between the traveler and Richard is coming up next! Will the traveler defeat Richard's ramshackle gang of fighters and save the orphanage? What vile plans does he have for the traveler? And will we **_**finally**_** learn the traveler's true identity? It's coming up in the next chapter!**

**As always, your comments/thoughts/constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Mermaid or any of its characters. Everything else, however, is mine =)**


End file.
